Anything For Love
by Linny27
Summary: Someone once said that they would do anything for love. When an old friend of Oliver's comes for a visit to Starling, he begins to understand just how true those words are. With the help of his team, he has to try to find a solution to his friend's problem before time runs out. He also needs to try to do that when she doesn't want his help. Rating changed.
1. Chapter One

_**Hello, everyone! Before I begin, I just want to say that this was strictly supposed to be an Oliver/Felicity story with a little bit of drama and angst, but my OCs just took over the reins right from the start. Now, it's still going to be an Oliver/Felicity story, but with just a lot... more. Also, this story is set after season 2. I'm fairly new to the Arrow fandom and I was almost all the way through with the second season when this idea came to me. Thanks to Netlfix, I was able to catch up fairly quickly, though now I have to trudge through the reruns of season 3. After binge-watching, an episode every week just isn't the same. :P**_

 _ **Anyway, on to the story. I hope you enjoy!**_

 _ **3 Linny**_

* * *

 **Anything For Love**

 **Chapter One**

It was a humid morning in River City, Pennsylvania. The air was still and stagnant as the sun slowly began to rise. Mist billowed off of the rushing water of the Cobalt River, creating a thick fog. It had rained the evening before and the night had been unusually cool for mid-June. It would be hours before the visibility cleared.

It didn't stop the young couple from enjoying their usual morning routine, though. Staying on the marked jogging path that ran alongside the course of the river, they didn't hesitate to keep their pace fast and even. They chatted back and forth, talking about the long day ahead of them.

Meeting after meeting, it seemed.

"You know, maybe she should take a vacation," the man said, his breathing slightly labored as he fought to keep with with the woman beside him. "It's been a while and clearly we could both use a break."

She chuckled as her strides slightly eased up to his pace. "Wow. A vacation. I'm not even sure I remember what that is."

Rounding a corner, they both slowed as their apartment building came into view. It was a structure made entirely out of steel and glass and the penthouse apartment gave a great view of the city. Even Riverhound Stadium, home of the River City Riverhound football club. "So, then it's settled. We'll go someplace tropical."

She rolled her eyes at his optimism. It _did_ sound wonderful, but she knew how difficult it would be to get away. "You know it won't be that easy. The company is going public in a couple of months and we need to be on the top of our game. I don't think a vacation is in the cards, right now."

He huffed, stopping in his tracks on the sidewalk. "You are such a buzzkill."

Stopping beside him, she shook her head. Her short brown ponytail bounced at the motion. "No. I'm just practical. The company is still recovering and it needs all the love it can get or else we won't have a job come next year."

"So, why are we doing this again?"

"Because, we need all the investors we can get if we want StewartTech to grow. And I don't know about you, but I like having a roof over my head." She'd been lighthearted with a grin on her face until she'd said those words. It was as if they'd brought back bad memories for her.

Cursing under his breath, he reached out to grab hold of her hand. "I'm sorry. Of course, you're right." She squeezed his hand in return. "I'm just being selfish. I can't help that I want some time alone with my wife that doesn't involve mergers and acquisitions and—not to mention—the endless stacks of paperwork." He pulled her toward him and she went willingly, allowing him to wrap her up in a tight embrace.

She moaned into what almost sounded like agony as she leaned into the broad expanse of his chest. "It has been a long time, hasn't it?"

"Too long." He kissed the crown of her head as his hand ran the length of her back. "So, what do you say?"

She didn't immediately move away from him, just enjoying his hold on her for a moment longer. Finally, she took a step back. "I'll think about it." He shot her a look that told her he didn't like that answer. She shrugged. "Until I know that the company is in good financial hands, I can't give you the answer you want."

He sighed heavily, letting his head hang low as he propped his hands on his hips. He was beginning to feel defeated. Yes, he knew he wasn't exactly great with money and his family's company had had its issues in the past because of his bad decision-making. But, he was working on it and with her at his side, StewartTech was quickly growing into a tech mogul that would put them ahead of everyone else.

"But," she said as she sidled back up to him, her tone playful as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Our first meeting doesn't start until nine, so we don't really have to hurry."

His head raised slightly, his eyes peering out at her from underneath a curtain of sweat- and mist-drenched dark brown hair, intrigued. A smirk curled one side of her mouth up as she waggled her eyebrows suggestively. He couldn't hold back his own grin. "Just what did you have in mind?"

"Oh, I don't know. A shower for two, maybe." Stepping up on her tiptoes, she kissed him so lightly on the chin that it was merely a feather-like touch.

"Hmm... sounds intriguing."

"But, that's only if you can catch me first."

Before he'd realized what she'd said, she'd slipped around him, disappearing into the thick, foggy curtain. With a chuckle, he chased after her, catching the smallest glimpses of her slender form as they raced toward their building. There was no way he would be able to catch her, though. They still had about three blocks to go and she'd been born to run.

In fact, she'd been forced to run. For far too long.

Shaking away those morbid thoughts, he picked up the pace, finally finding her as she stood triumphantly in front of the doorway of the apartment complex. She was wearing her gloating face as she bounced on the balls of her feet, her hands tucked behind her back. Slowing, he stopped a few feet in front of her with his hands out at his sides, conceding to her win.

"Aw, are you going to start pouting, now?"

"No," there was the tiniest hint of a smile to his hurt tone as he tried to fight back his laughter. "As usual, you won fair and square. I just can't beat you." It didn't mean that his manly pride was bruised. She would make it up to him, though. She always did.

"It's such a shame, too." She tilted her head to one side as she regarded his features. There was a glint of mischief still lingering inside the green depths of his eyes. "I was actually kind of looking forward to that shower."

"Really?" His eyebrows rose in interest as the glint flared to life, creating a full-blown sparkle. "Well, we'll just have to do something about that, won't we?" Not allowing her the chance to discover his motives, he crouched down and grabbed hold of her by the legs. When he stood back up again, he had her draped over his shoulder in a fireman's hold.

"What are you doing?" she squealed, kicking her legs slightly. A slap to her behind surprised her into silence. It was still early, but the city was waking and they were certain to draw attention soon.

He chuckled as he reached into the pocket of his running shorts for the complex's keycard. Swiping it against the scanner, he chuckled. "Cheating."

"Put me down!" she hissed as he passed through the now opened door.

He just continued to laugh as he carried her through the lobby. He greeted the armed doorman jovially as if nothing were amiss. The guard just sat in his chair and stared as they passed by his desk, heading toward their private elevator. There was the hint of a smile on his lips, though.

It was clear that he wasn't going to listen to her protestations as he swiped the keycard again to call for the elevator. "You don't play fair," she whined as she relaxed in his hold, and finding the delectable sight of his behind encased in his running shorts. "At least I've got a nice view."

He still didn't respond; only waited for the elevator to arrive. Once it did, he carried her on and passed the card once again over a scanner. There was a ping as the information was recognized. The doors closed and the car began to move. It was only then that he placed her back on her feet, trapping her in the corner of the elevator car.

She found herself shrinking back into the corner, her gaze caught on the heated inferno blazing in his eyes. She wasn't afraid. She was exactly the opposite of that. "Rick, I..."

"Shhh," he hushed her by placing a finger tenderly against her lips.

She could only comply, the slightest whimper escaping her lips as she lost herself in the swirling depths of his gaze that only grew darker as the seconds passed. A shiver ran down her spine as his hands brushed against the thin fabric of her pink and gray running top, coming to rest on her lower back.

His breath danced across her cheek as he leaned in, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss.

She moaned as she arched into him, welcoming the heat he was offering her, savoring his touch and taste as it enveloped her. Of their own accord, her arms snaked up the length of his torso, brushing over the flat, hard planes of his stomach and chest. His breath hitched slightly at her touch, his hips flexing slightly against her. Grinning against the heat of his mouth, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

Oh, she knew the kind of effect she had on her husband. He had the same effect on her. It had been that way since they'd first met. The heat between them—while not always sexual—had always been hot to the point of combustion. It if didn't get taken care of immediately, they were both going to get burned.

"Isla," he murmured her name against her lips when he'd finally released them to drag in a much needed breath of air. As he fought to ease the burning in his chest from the lack of oxygen, his lips continued to touch her, kissing her cheek before moving to her jaw and then the tender flesh of her neck. "I need you out of these clothes."

She gasped, arching into him again as she threw her head back with a whimper of need. "So, what are you waiting for, then?"

That was all the incentive that he needed. His mouth found hers again, his hands sneaking underneath the fabric of her tanktop. His fingers brushed against the velvety skin of her hips and stomach, feeling it quiver under his touch.

It had been too long since they'd last enjoyed each other in this manner. Business, it seemed, was always getting in the way. That was the price of running your own company. It always seemed to come first with other things—some things more important than others—always getting pushed to the back-burners. Guilt plagued at his insides, because it had been his idea in the first place.

After struggling for so long, StewartTech was finally in a good place, financially, creating new tech that could advance the world in so many ways; technologically and medically. It was only logical that they put themselves out there, to let others become involved and reap the benefits of all their hard work.

Unfortunately, Rick could sometimes forget about the one person it could affect the most negatively. But he was going to rectify that. He just needed her to be receptive.

Of course, the way she squirmed and swiveled in his embrace told him just how receptive she could be. God, this elevator was taking forever.

Not that anyone else in the building would have access to it and end up interrupting them. The tech in the building had been designed by him. The property had belonged to his family for years, but had greatly needed an upgrade. That's where he'd come in, turning it into a tech geek's wildest dream that was also environmentally friendly. Now, he and Isla had been living in the penthouse apartment for the last three months, watching over the daily operations. It was the first of its kind and if the six-month testing period he'd set for himself succeeded, he could see others just like it popping up first all around the city, then perhaps the rest of the country.

That was why the stock option was so important, he knew. But even the prospect of losing his family's company—if the deal went awry, that was a very real possibility—wasn't enough to make him forget the important things in life. The most important being his wife.

And as exciting it would be to make love to her in their private elevator, what he really wanted was their bed.

Finally, the ping of arrival had sounded, announcing that they had arrived at their destination. He never disconnected from her. His mouth was fused to hers, his body pressed intimately against her as he lifted her into his arms. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around his waist, causing him to release a growl of arousal.

Her hips ground against his in response, forcing him to tighten his hold on her as he carefully walked her back to their bedroom. He'd tripped over a throw rug in the middle of the living room and a lamp had been knocked over, but neither seemed to care as Rick moved with a purpose both were eagerly awaiting.

Finally, they'd reached the bedroom. Kicking the door closed—not that they were likely to be interrupted anytime soon—he approached the bed. Releasing his hold on her, he dropped her onto the queen-sized mattress.

She gave a squeal of surprise as she bounced slightly on top of the duvet, her eyes swiveling up to meet the heated gaze of her husband. "What now?" she teased, sassily.

That mischievous smirk of his had returned, but he didn't say a word as he stared down at her. His larger frame loomed over her, causing her to unconsciously shiver with what he hoped was excitement. Still without speaking, he reached for the hem of his gray running shirt, pulling it off over his head in one swift motion.

She leaned back on her hands with a satisfied-looking smile. No matter how may times she would look at this man, she knew she would never tire of it. Oh, sure. Rick was a computer geek in the highest sense. Normally, she couldn't understand a single word he was saying when he went into his streams of techno-babble. But he was also a man who knew how to take care of himself. He was in his early thirties, the CEO of the company his father had started, and an avid sportsman. And his body showed just how much time he liked to spend outdoors. He was all muscle and sinew from all the activities he did to stay in shape.

Isla's mouth watered. There was absolutely nothing sexier than her tech nerd.

"Like what you see?" he asked, arching an eyebrow in question. His gaze was absolutely predatory as he continued to stand above her. His hands hadn't been unable to stand being away from her, though. The thumb and index finger of his left hand toyed with the strap of her running top, lightly brushing against the soft flesh underneath.

She gave a shiver as her gaze traveled up the length of his body, taking in every dip and ridge she could see. Boy, did she ever. "Yup," was her simple response.

He chuckled, now leaning down over her, capturing her lips again. His teeth worried her bottom lip as her hands found their way into his hair, raking through it's thickness, her nails scraping against his scalp. His hands traveled down to the hem of her tanktop, yanking it up her lithe torso, bunching just under the swells of her breasts. "Let's see what else you like," he murmured against the softness of her lips before laying her down onto the bed and taking her to heights that only he could.


	2. Chapter Two

_**Hello, everyone! I'm back with the next chapter. I'll try to post every week, either on Friday or Saturday, depending on my week. Sooo... yeah. Enjoy!**_

 _ **3 Linny**_

* * *

 **Anything For Love**

 **Chapter Two**

 _Starling City, California_

 _Six weeks later_

Oliver grunted as he did pullups on the bottom wrung of the salmon ladder. Sweat poured off of him as he repeated the up-down motion, not counting his reps; just losing himself in the task as he fought to clear his head.

His world had completely turned upside down in the last three months. His mother had died at the hands of Slade Wilson. A madman who at one point in his life had been like a brother to him. A madman that Oliver had thought he'd killed once. But, no. Because of the Mirakuru serum in his system, Slade had lived to exact his revenge on Oliver.

He cursed under his breath as he began to do crunches on the bar, swinging himself until he moved up one step on the ladder.

Slade had killed his mother in front of him and his sister, Thea. He'd kidnapped Laurel Lance, the woman he'd dreamed about every day when he was on that God-forsaken island. Slade knew that too; that was why he'd chosen Laurel. Oliver had loved her for half of his life. But, what Slade hadn't realized was that Oliver was no longer in love with Laurel Lance. His heart now belonged to another.

He moved up one more step on the ladder as his anger continued to rise as he thought of what happened next.

Felicity. She'd said something to him about out-thinking Slade. So Oliver had set a trap. He'd taken Felicity to his home, telling her something about keeping her safe. Slade would be watching, he knew. He'd found the little hidden cameras all over the house. Then, he'd discretely given her one of his injection arrows filled with an antidote to the Mirakuru as he told her he loved her.

At the time, he'd thought it had only been part of his plot. He'd been so focused on defeating Slade that he never thought about the ramifications of his words. Whether he loved Felicity at that moment, he still wasn't sure. He knew he did, though, when Slade had taken her too, telling him to choose like Anthony Ivo had made him do between Shado and Sara Lance and like Slade had tried to make him do between his mother and Thea before his mother had sacrificed herself for him.

One more wrung up the ladder.

He knew he loved Felicity the moment she'd stabbed that needled arrow into Slade's neck, effectively delivering the cure. Now the psychopath was locked in a prison on that Hell of an island with no way of escape. The A.R.G.U.S. Agents there would make certain of that.

Oliver remembered what Felicity had said to him as they were leaving Lian Yu. She'd told him that—for a second—he had her even believing that he'd loved her. But as she'd been stumbling all over her words, giving him the way out that she'd thought he'd wanted, he'd realized that he didn't want a way out. He did love her. But, he knew that the two of them together was an impossibility. With the risks he took, he didn't want to put her in more danger than she already was.

Moving up the ladder again, he muttered a curse under his breath. The worse part of it all was that she had accepted that for the time being. She'd allowed him to push her away because she knew how important saving Starling City was to him. But, how long would she allow him to keep her at arm's length?

It was times like this when he was alone in the foundry that he realized that he was now back to when he'd started his crusade. Yes, now he had others on his side, helping him along the way, but he was just as lost now as he'd been then.

Now, he was starting over. Now, he was an orphan with a sister who was off on her own soul-searching mission, leaving him to pick up the pieces of their shattered lives. Because while he'd been preoccupied with Slade's revenge plans, his family's company had been stolen from right under his feet. Isabel Rochev, a former love interest of his father, had caused a coup. He'd been forced out of the company, he'd been forced out of his home and the club he and his friend, Tommy, had built inside one of the Queen Consolidated's old factories had been closed down.

His life was a mess, but he was determined to clean it up. Thankfully, he still had Felicity who continued to stand by his side, no matter how many times he seemed to wrong her.

And Digg.

John Diggle was his former bodyguard and one of the first friends he'd made when he'd arrived home from Lian Yu. Military to the core, Digg knew how to approach a situation and even knock some sense into Oliver when he was being the stubborn ass he usually was.

Of course, now he had a few new allies in his quest to save Starling. Detective Lance being one of them. When the Arrow had first appeared on scene, it was the Detective who'd been looking to take him down and he'd actually come close to it once. Now, after working together for a year he'd accepted the vigilante for what he was. A hero.

Laurel, the detective's daughter, was a new ally. She'd been in shock when Slade had told her about Oliver's secret and Oliver had been even in more shock when she'd shown up at the foundry after he'd went missing. He'd been on his way to his mother's funeral, but he'd found that he just could face all of the friends and family that had gathered together to say their farewells. The guilt ate at him until he just couldn't stand it any longer. Now, they were partners. He would capture criminals and she would prosecute them to the fullest extent thanks to her title as Assistant DA.

Sara Lance was Laurel's sister and Detective Lance's other daughter. She and Oliver had quite the past, that was for sure. She'd accompanied him on the Queen's Gambit, his father's boat that had gone down in the ocean seven years ago. He'd thought she'd died twice in that time. Once when the boat had gone down and then a year later during the incident with Ivo and Slade being injected with the Mirakuru. She'd returned to Starling last year, a completely different woman. An assassin who no longer wanted to kill, but due to certain circumstances, she'd had to return to Nanda Parbat in order to save the lives of her family. She had yet to return.

And then there was Roy. He wasn't so much unlike Oliver had been when he'd first put on the hood. His home had been the Glades and when Malcolm Merlyn had destroyed them with his earthquake machine, the young man had become incensed. After what had happened with Slade's super-soldier army, Oliver knew the kid would be a valuable asset. While he'd been dating Oliver's sister, he'd been injected with the Mirakuru, causing a rift between the two. Thea was now away and Roy had donned a red hood.

An alarm sounding caught Oliver's attention. Slipping from the bar of the salmon ladder, he dropped at least ten feet to the floor and the padding of the mats he and Digg usually sparred on. Reaching for the towel he'd flung over the back of Felicity's chair, he wiped the sweat from his face and heaving chest. His muscles twitched slightly from overuse, but he ignored the discomfort as he pushed a button on the keyboard.

A security video appeared on one of the screens, revealing a car pulling up just outside of the club. It was black with tinted windows. He couldn't see the face of the driver very well. He might have to discuss the possibility of high-definition color security cameras with Felicity. Although, it's not like he would be able to afford them.

He watched as the driver stepped out of the vehicle. There was the definitive sight of a gun strapped to his hip as he adjusted his suit coat and fastened the buttons. Walking around the car, the large man opened the back passenger door, which was out of view of the camera. Oliver pushed a few buttons, hoping for a better angle, but there wasn't one.

Great. Visitors.

Tossing the towel onto the futon in the make-shift bedroom he'd created, he grabbed for a clean shirt before going up to greet his unknown guests.

* * *

She studied the scene as the car pulled up to the abandoned factory. From the outside, it didn't look like much. It looked like an old, abandoned steel factory that would have employed a great deal of people in its heyday. Now, it just looked rundown.

She knew that wasn't the case. She'd done her research and knew this was where she would find him. Oliver Queen.

"I'll wait for you here, Ms. Stewart," the driver said as he opened the car door for her.

Stepping out, she continued to eye the old building. There was a sign hanging on a nearby wall saying the club 'Verdant' was closed until further notice. From what she'd read, the club had been quite successful, even in this part of the city. Due to certain circumstances, however, it's fate was now in limbo.

"Thank you, Marc," she smiled congenially at her armed protector and slung her purse over her shoulder. "I shouldn't be long."

"Yes, ma'am." He seemed almost relieved by her words.

She couldn't really blame him, though. This wasn't exactly the nicest part of town. Why, of all places, would Oliver have opened a nightclub here?

Shaking the thought away, she approached the front door. She was surprised to see that it was unlocked. While all of the valuables that would have been inside would have been most likely moved to storage, it still wasn't smart to leave things wide open. Of course, with the way Oliver used to operate, perhaps that was the way he'd wanted it.

Pausing in the doorway, she took a moment to get a feel of her surroundings. Only silence greeted her. "Hello?" she called out, her voice echoing in the quiet emptiness of the building.

There was no response, so she took a few more steps inside. It looked much better than the outside did, that was for sure. Tarps were thrown over the tables and bars to protect them from dust and vermin almost as if someone expected this place could somehow become revived in a matter of minutes. It had been a long time since those doors had been opened to the public and would probably be even longer until it happened again. If ever.

"Sorry, we're closed."

She closed her eyes as the sound of his familiar voice washed over her. It brought back so many memories and emotions she would probably rather forget. Taking in a deep, shaking breath, she slowly let it out, fighting to bring her emotions in check. Finally, when she had a handle on herself, she turned.

Oliver's familiar blue eyes went wide in shock when he saw her face. He took a step back as if he'd just been punched in the face, blinking wildly to make sure he wasn't seeing things. "Isla?" he asked, breathlessly.

Her smile was wide, her eyes clouding over with tears of joy. It had been too long since she'd seen his face. "Oliver."

"What are you doing here?" Oliver didn't realize he was moving until she was in his arms. Wrapping her up in a tight hug, he felt the air rush from his lungs.

She hugged him back just as tightly. "I'd heard that you'd returned home. I wanted to come and see you while I was in town." She pulled away from his embrace, her eyes taking stock of him. "You look good."

He smiled, his eyes watery with emotion. "You too." He stared at her in wonderment as he took the sight of her in. She was dressed in a smart, form-fitting black dress and black three-inch heels that brought her to almost eye level with him. Her brown hair was styled in fashionable waves that hung to just above her shoulders. "Wow, do you look good."

"Five years changes a person, doesn't it?"

More than she could ever know, he thought to himself. "Yes, it does."

But she was more different than he could have ever imagined. She wasn't that scared girl who'd looked to him for help and guidance all those years ago. She was now a confident woman who looked like she'd made her mark on the world. It shocked him to the very core.

"So... this is awkward," she laughed after a long moment of silence between the two of them.

"A bit. I just can't believe you're here. I thought, after I'd left you in Russia that I would never see you again."

She nodded, her expression suddenly solemn. "Me too."

His eyes immediately went pained. "When they took you, I did everything I could to find you."

She reached out a tender hand and rested it on his forearm. "I know you did. But, I'm okay. I promise."

But there was a shadow in her eyes that told him that wasn't the complete truth. He wouldn't press her, though. It would only force her into herself, he knew. He was the same way at times. "If you're sure."

She nodded again. "I am. But, while this heartfelt chat in the middle of a rundown club is wonderful, this wasn't exactly the setting I had in mind for our reunion."

"And what setting would you prefer?" He found himself smiling at the way she'd changed the direction of the conversation—quite in the same manner as someone else he knew.

"Some place with food, preferably. How about some lunch?"

"Well, I don't know if you heard, but my monetary funds aren't quite what they used to be anymore."

She nodded. "Oh, I heard alright." She seemed to be angry for him. "But, this will be my treat, what do you say?"

He thought about it for a minute. His schedule was clear for the day while the rest of his team was off living the rest of their lives. Felicity and Digg would be by later to help him find a way to get his company back. With controlling interest in Queen Consolidated on the market, there had to be a way for him to get his hands back on it.

"Lunch sounds great. But, let me go take a quite shower, first."

Her brow arched in interest. "This place has a shower?"

"Oh, you'd be surprised what it has," he smirked. "Five minutes, okay?" He waited for her nod of approval before he went around the main set of stairs to the door that headed into the basement. He made sure she hadn't followed before punching in the code and disappearing from sight.

She didn't have to wait long. His hair was still a bit damp when he reemerged exactly five minutes later, but it was so short that it would air dry in less time than it took to brush her own. He'd dressed himself in a pair of khakis and pulled on a blue sweater.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yup."

"Good, I'm starving."


	3. Chapter Three

_**Hello, everyone! I'm back again with another installment of Anything For Love! How ya doing? :) If you've been reading this from the beginning, you might have noticed a bit of a change. I've been thinking about it since I posted the last chapter and I finally came to a decision. I'm lowering the rating from M to T. Originally, when I began writing this, I was going to use it to challenge myself. I'm not exactly comfortable with writing those romantic M scenes so I thought this would be my chance to do so. However, the more I thought about it and the more story I continued to write, I came to the conclusion that while those kinds of scenes would be a good challenge for me, I found that they don't really fit in well with the rest of the story. Theme-wise anyway. Perhaps once the story is finished, I can post bonus scenes in the M category so I can still get my challenge. How does that sound to everyone?**_

 _ **And what kind of feelings are you getting about Isla? Does she worry you or do you just flat-out hate her? Let me know! ;)**_

 _ **Okay, talking too much. Here's the next chapter. Enjoy!**_

 _ **3 Linny**_

* * *

 **Anything For Love**

 **Chapter Three**

She chose a restaurant with an outside patio. It was a beautiful, warm day and the breeze was just cool enough for it to not be completely unpleasant as they sat under the shade of an umbrella. The food was delicious too.

"I'm glad we could do this," she told him once they were finished eating. Sitting back in her seat, she took a sip from her glass of iced tea.

"Me too," he grinned as he finished off his last piece of his lemon-baked chicken. He hadn't realized just how hungry he'd been. It had been a while since he'd enjoyed a proper meal like this. It was tough being broke. "So, tell me about yourself. What have you been up to?"

She lifted one shoulder in a shrug, giving Oliver a glimpse of the girl he'd met five years before. Insecure. Uncertain. "There really isn't much to tell."

He shook his head. "I don't believe that." During the meal, he'd tried again to press her for information about the last time he'd seen her, but she'd shied away from that topic just like he used to do about his time on Lian Yu. He knew it was best not to push, though. He had the feeling that she would tell him in time. Now that he knew she was okay, he wasn't going to let her just fade away. He was going to take care of her like he'd promised all those years ago. "You're the CEO of your own tech company. How did that happen?"

She furrowed her brows in confusion. She hadn't told him that. "How did you know that?"

He shrugged, but avoided eye contact for a few beats. "I may have Googled you while I was in the shower," he said in an off-handed manner. "It's just a habit. Good business practices and all that. It's helps to eye up the competition."

She arched an eyebrow in question. "So... I'm competition, now?"

He rolled his eyes at the way he'd put his foot in his mouth. It was unusual of him. Usually that was Felicity's area of expertise. "That's not what I meant." He realized he'd been laughing at himself and he appreciated just how good that felt. The last few months—or rather, the last year—had been much too heavy for his liking.

Avoiding conversation for a moment, he took a sip from his water. He then looked at their surroundings. The streets were quite crowded this time of day, people coming and going in a bustle that had—until recently—become quite unusual for Starling City. He was beginning to think that the city was beginning to recover. After Malcolm Merlyn's attack, and the Mirakuru army, it deserved it.

Content to see that things were slowly returning to the way they'd been, he returned his attention back to Isla. "What?" he asked, when he realized she was staring at him, her brows furrowed together as she regarded him.

She waited a beat before shaking her head. "Nothing. You just seem... different, is all."

"Well, I am different." He'd implied to make those words sound differently, as if his experiences had made him cold and hard. It was almost as if he was trying to warn her away from him.

But, from the way she tilted her head slightly as she continued to study him, she didn't see him that way at all. "No. There's a light in your eyes I never got to see before."

"You're seeing things. I'm the same person you met five years ago. Only now, I've ended up losing my family's company and everything they owned because I was too distracted by my own agenda." His eyes immediately turned ice cold, his fingers wrapping tightly around his serving knife.

Nodding, she leaned forward, elbow on the table, her chin resting in her palm. "I heard," she scowled. "You know, I never did like that bitch, Isabel Rochev," she growled in contempt. "She tried to take over StewartTech last year before coming to Starling City."

"Tried?" He released his hold on the knife and it clattered down onto the table top. Isabel was lucky she was dead or else he would have hunted her down and put an arrow through her. No one would blame him.

"Our investors really believe in what we're doing and the board refused her multiple offers once they saw what we had in store for the future. They knew Isabel would turn it into something that was just like every other company in this country. She was not a happy camper when she lost, let me tell you."

A grin twitched at the corner of his mouth. "I bet that was a sight to see."

"I was highly entertained. Especially after she made the moves on Rick. And was shot down." Her smile was a bit triumphant and her eyes sparkled with an evil glee.

"Yeah... I was wondering when we were going to address the elephant in the room. When do I get to meet him?"

Her grin faded, only to be replaced with a heavy frown. At least, that's what it had looked like for the split second it had taken for it to change only to be replaced with her usual nonchalant expression. "Unfortunately, he's away at the moment. In Europe. I came to Starling on my own."

"Too bad. It would be an honor to meet the man who saved you."

She smiled reflectively as her right hand lifted to play with the delicate white gold chain hanging around her neck. Something was hanging on it, but it dipped too low inside her dress that Oliver couldn't see what it was. "We both know that title belongs to someone else."

He shook his head. "I only did what anyone else would have done."

"But, no one else did. And I never got to thank you properly."

He frowned. "I don't really deserve thanks. I slipped up. When Anatoly told me that you were gone... that they'd taken you..."

She shook her head. "I thought we weren't going to talk about this." She winced slightly and her voice was filled with a hint of pain.

"I can't help but feel guilty."

"Well, don't," she barked at him. Her tone was cold as she'd retreated into herself. Oliver was briefly gifted with a glance at the tough-as-nails CEO he'd read about. "It happened and there's nothing you could have done to prevent it. And besides, something good did come of it. I met Rick."

He opened his mouth to say something more, ask so many questions, but her expression was telling him that the subject was closed. Was this how he acted when Felicity and Digg asked him questions about the five years he'd been away?

"Well, that's enough talk about me. Tell me about you. Is there anyone special in your life now?" There was the sheen of tears sparkling in her eyes, but they'd disappeared with a few quick blinks.

Choosing the let the previous topic go, he began to shake his head. It was his usual automatic response to that question. But this time, he'd paused when he thought of Felicity. Special was a word that just seem to describe that woman in the most accurate way.

"It's... complicated."

"Ooh. Sounds juicy. Tell me about her." She gave a little, excited wiggle in her seat, giving Oliver a glimpse of the woman who was hidden under all of the darkness in her life. He wanted to see more of that. He just wished he could help break down those walls. "It's that girl... Laurel, wasn't it?"

Like Felicity had done for him. Oh, of course they weren't all down, but there was definitely a big gaping hole where she'd broken through his defenses. Her and that ponytail of hers. He didn't usually allow him the luxury of thinking about her. It only brought pain and anguish when he thought of all the things he couldn't be for her. But then he would feel the way she affected him on an emotional level and consider giving into the urge of putting everything on the back-burner just to be with her.

When he'd told her that he loved her to only fool Slade, he knew he'd been lying. He did. He loved the way her eyes lit up whenever he entered the room. He loved the way her mind and her mouth were continuously at odds with with another to the point that she babbled on end. He even loved the way she stood up to him without fear of reprisal. But the one thing he loved most about her was that she could always find a way to make him smile without even trying.

Shaking his head, he reached for his water glass. "It's not Laurel." It was suddenly beginning to feel a bit warm to him. "And there's not much to tell."

She scoffed at him with a roll of her eyes. "Yeah, like I believe that. You're still a terrible liar."

"So people keep telling me," he muttered through pursed lips. Yes, he could lie to bad guys without batting an eye, but when it came to people he cared about, he was as transparent as the glass in his hand.

"So, what makes it so complicated?"

He rolled his eyes. She just wasn't going to let this go, was she? "Lots of things."

Sitting back in her chair, she fixed a knowing gaze and shook her head at him. But what else should she have expected. As long as she'd known him, Oliver Queen had always been strong-willed, brave, and a little bit self-deprecating. It was beginning to look like that hadn't changed. And this conversation was getting them nowhere.

She took another sip of her iced tea and sat back in her seat again, folding her hands across her stomach. "I doesn't have to be as complicated as you say it is, you know."

Oh, how he wished that were true. "So, what kind of business brings you to Starling?"

She chuckled. "Same old Oliver. Master at changing the subject."

He shrugged nonchalantly, but it was obvious the conversation had been putting a strain on him. "Just curious. After all, we didn't just get together so we could talk about my love life... or lack thereof."

She supposed she could accept that. After all, he wasn't pressing on things she didn't want to talk about. "StewartTech has a subsidiary here in Starling. I came to check up on things, as a CEO is likely to do."

"Is that all?" While he completely understood that aspect of her business, he had the feeling there was something more to her visit.

She shook her head. "No. I'm also here on a recruitment mission. We are looking to add to our personnel and while River City is quickly becoming a technical hub, I heard Starling was the place to start looking."

The expression on his face was disbelieving for a second. "So, you flew three-thousand miles to recruit new hires?"

"Something like that," was her evasive answer.

Oliver shifted in his seat as he noticed a cloud of something akin to worry pass over her features. There was another reason for her visit and it seemed like she was less than willing to tell him. The hair on the back of his neck stood at attention as he reached across the table. He took hold of one of her hands, giving in a gentle squeeze. It took her two beats too long before she looked up at him again. "Is everything alright? Are you in some kind of trouble?"

Her gaze softened at the tenderness she saw in her eyes and she allowed the hint of a smile to show. Her back and shoulders were still rigid, though. "It's nothing I can't handle, Oliver."

He didn't like the sound of that. "I can help."

"Oh, I'm certain of that. But, I can take care of myself." She mimicked his movement, but inside of going for his hand, she reached for his cheek. Cupping it tenderly, she brushed her thumb against the bristles of his stubble. "But thank you for being so concerned." Getting up from her seat, she leaned over and placed a kiss on his opposite cheek.

"Isla..." he started but she wouldn't let him continue.

"I have to go. Thanks for today. It was great seeing you again." She reached into her purse and threw some money down to pay the bill.

This wasn't right. She was in trouble; he just knew it. And he could help her if she would just let him. He reached for her again, his fingers making contact with the leather cuff bracelet she wore on her left wrist that he knew was hiding a very distinct tattoo. "Isla," he protested.

She kissed his cheek again, making sure to look him in the eye. "Don't let your fears win, Oliver. Whatever is making you hold back, sometimes it's just better to let love win."

He shook his head, still studying her. "I never said that I loved her."

The broad smile and familiar twinkle in her eye returned for an instant. "You didn't have to."

With that, she left him sitting in his seat, staring after her as she hurried to the awaiting car. The driver said nothing as he opened the door for her. She began to climb in, but paused and looked back at Oliver. His heart clenched in pain for her as he saw the familiar sheen of tears running down her cheeks.


	4. Chapter Four

_**I am in awe about the reaction this story is receiving. The amount of favorites and follows were far beyond what I'd ever expected. So, thank you to everyone who is reading, even if you aren't reviewing. This is the first story I've written in a while, so it feels good to get back into the swing of things. Now, I think it's time we caught up with Felicity. Don't you think? ;)**_

 ** _Enjoy! Linny_**

* * *

 **Anything For Love**

 **Chapter Four**

Shoot. Shoot shoot shoot. She was running late. Stupid job at that stupid store. Stupid manager for trying to make her miss her stupid appointment by delaying her stupid lunch hour. That incompetent idiot would probably burn down the store if it wasn't for her.

Pausing on a street corner, she checked her purse to make sure she'd remembered everything. She'd left the store in such a hurry that she probably did.

Phone... check.

Tablet... check.

Resumé... check.

Everything vital was in there. She just wished her Mini hadn't broken down last week, otherwise she wouldn't have had to walk. In three-inch heels, nonetheless. That was the only reason she'd agreed to this. Working at Tech Village wasn't exactly cutting it when it came to paying the bills and she could really use the extra income, plus the hours would be much more flexible for her and Oliver's nocturnal activities.

She rolled her eyes at herself at the way that sounded in her head. Why couldn't things just come out the way she wanted them to?

Waiting impatiently for the 'walk' sign at the crosswalk, she bounced on the balls of her feet. Why was she so nervous? This interview wasn't going to be such a big deal. After all, she'd gotten the job at Queen Consolidated with less credentials than she had now. Although, half the staff had thought she and Oliver had been sleeping together and probably thought that's how she'd gotten the job in the first place. But, she'd already been working there before he'd even come home, so how could they legitimately think that she'd slept with him to get her position?

Office gossip was the worst.

Not that she hadn't ever thought about it, she reminded herself. Who wouldn't? He was handsome, charismatic, and chiseled like a roman statue. There were times she just wanted to try to take a bite out of him.

And this wasn't helping matters any, she cursed at herself. She had to keep her head on straight.

Despite the fact that she'd turned down this meeting for the last month, she knew it was something that needed to be done. She just hoped Oliver saw it that way when she finally told him.

Yeah, he probably wasn't going to be too happy that she could possibly be going to work at one of QC's smaller competitor's, but if what she'd been hearing through the grapevine about this company was true, then it was only going to get bigger. Therefore, it would be much harder to get through the door.

And, then, how else was she going to eye up the competition? Because, that was the only reason she was doing this. She'd told herself that multiple times. Although, she didn't exactly believe that. She was desperate to get out of the hole she'd found herself in and as much as she would like to blame Oliver Queen for his one-track mind, she knew she was just as much at fault.

If she'd been able to convince him sooner that QC was a priority that needed to be attended to, then they would all still have jobs that were worth writing home about. Not that she actually wrote home to her mother. There was really no point, her mother being the way she was.

Finally, the signal changed and she quickly jogged to keep up with the flow of foot traffic. She hustled down the sidewalk as fast as she could, only to be stopped at another corner. "Frack," she muttered under her breath as she ran her hand over the crown of her head, smoothing away the flyaway hairs that had slipped from the elastic band of her ponytail.

Dreading what she would find, she spared a glance at her watch. She had five minutes to get to her destination and she was still three blocks away.

Great, Felicity. Just great. Way to make an impression.

Shaking her head, something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye across the street. The restaurant was crowded for lunch, but only a few patrons had decided to bear the elements and sit outside. She was stunned to see that Oliver was one of them. And he wasn't alone.

There was a woman with him. She was pretty. Nicely dressed in a form-fitting black dress, her brown hair looked professionally styled as it hung in delicate waves to her shoulders. A businesswoman of sorts, it looked like.

Of course, with Oliver being who he was, he knew a great many people in the corporate world. Quite a few of them being women. Nothing to be at all concerned over, she tried to reassure herself.

Felicity wanted to eat those words when she saw the familiarity between the two. The woman would reach out to him and Oliver didn't seem to mind. In fact, when she'd cupped his cheek, he'd leaned into it like he was enjoying a lover's touch.

She shouldn't be watching this, she knew. This was a personal exchange between two people. Although, it was happening in public, so no one could really blame her for spying, right?

Wow, she was beginning to sound like a crazy-psycho stalker or something. She was being jealous for no reason.

Wait... jealous?

No.

But as she continued to watch, she felt the sharp, cramping pain in her stomach as the woman stood up and kissed Oliver on the cheek. There were more words exchanged between them and she did it again, before leaving him. And he even looked bereft at her leaving.

Her heart clenched in pain. Another woman that Oliver had a past with. Of course. The man gets shipwrecked on an island and meets a handful of beautiful women. It was a guy's perfect fantasy.

Great... now she was in a bad mood. How in the world was she going to impress the hiring manager, now?

"Frack," she said again as she checked her watch once more. Foot traffic was moving again and she hurried as much as she could in her heels. Next time she was in this much of a hurry, she was going to wear her running shoes. Not that she actually used them for running.

The ringing of her cellphone surprised her and she tried not to bump into anyone as she dug through her purse to find it.

Speak of the devil, she cursed as she saw who was calling.

She thought about not answering it. Let the poor bastard stew as she fought to tamper down any jealous feelings she was hoarding at that moment. Unfortunately, the mental closet she'd tucked all of her feelings about Oliver in was already full to bursting. That man had way too many issues and she had too many issues because of him.

"Can't talk right now, Oliver," she told him when she gave in and decided to put him out of his misery.

"I need you to do me a favor." He was using his gruff voice. His gruff voice always made her all tingly in the best kinds of places.

"Kind of in a hurry here," she said as she maneuvered around a group of people who were hogging half the sidewalk and picked up her pace slightly.

"Are you running?" Worry instantly infiltrated his tone as it softened.

Damn him for using that voice. That voice made her tingly just about everywhere else his gruff voice couldn't quite reach. "More like jogging."

"You don't jog."

'Thank you for reminding me about my lack of physical prowess', she thought with a roll of her eyes. "Just in a hurry. Have something really important to get to, right now."

"What? Like a date?"

Was that hurt she'd heard in his voice? She shook that thought away. Not important enough to mull over right now. Perhaps later when she had half a bottle of wine in her system. "No." She'd thought about giving him a dose of his own medicine and making him suffer like she had for the last three months; maybe even longer, she didn't even know. "Just an appointment that I'm really late for." And she wasn't going to put the rest of her life on hold because of Oliver Queen.

Yeah, like she actually believed that. She knew she was pathetic enough to do whatever he asked of her. Doormat, party of one.

"Okay, well, I need you to get me all the information you can on a woman name Isla Addams." Back to the no-nonsense Oliver. Man, he had to have split personalities or something. One minute he could be the silly aloof Oliver he used in public and the next he was cold, calculating Oliver that strapped a bow to his back to fight criminals. And sometimes, if she was lucky, she would see that happy medium between the two Olivers. That one didn't come out much these days, though.

"Is she next on your most-wanted list or something?" she panted as she arrived at the StewartTech building, her free hand pressing at her side as her ribs and lungs both burned from exhaustion.

"Just get me whatever you can, please."

With that the call ended and she was left on the sidewalk, bereft at the lack of tact he had for phone conversations. "Goodbye to you too," she grumbled before tucking her phone away and checking her appearance in the reflective glass of the front windows.

Seeing that she was presentable enough, she took in a deep, calming breath before entering the lobby. It was crowded with people as they hurried back from their lunch breaks, eager to get back to work. A nice, soothing calm washed over Felicity as she took in the scene. Now, this is what she was talking about. This was work, not selling cheap internet routers to middle-aged housewives who knew absolutely nothing about the internet except how to post videos of cats.

"Miss Smoak?" a voice asked from her left.

Turning, she turned to see a pretty middle-aged black woman dressed in a nicely-pressed white pantsuit. Felicity never looked good in white and pantsuits were completely out of the question. They just weren't her thing. Still, this woman pulled it off quite nicely. "Ms. Brooks?"

"Call me Joanna, please," she said with a smile as she held out her hand.

Felicity shook it, feeling for the first time just how sweaty her palms were. "Sorry I'm late. I'm sans vehicle right now, so I had to run from my current place of employment."

"You ran in those shoes?"

Felicity looked down at the three-inch fuchsia pumps she was wearing and shrugged. "Yes."

Joanna's smile grew even wider. "Well, then, your skills are more impressive than I was first led to believe. Please, follow me."

The blonde could only nod in response and watched momentarily what direction the woman was heading in. When she was enough of a distance away, Felicity blew out a breath of relief. "Piece of cake," she mumbled to herself before she hurried to catch up.


	5. Chapter Five

_**Hello, everyone! It's time for another update to Anything for Love. As always, thank you for the wonderful support you all have given me, although, I don't write for the amount of reviews I'll receive. I just do it because it's something I enjoy. I hope that's something you can see in my writing. Now, it's time to learn more about Oliver's past with Isla. It might not be exactly what you think. Flashbacks are in** italic **.**_

 _ **Enjoy! :)**_

 _ **Linny**_

* * *

 **Anything For Love**

 **Chapter Five**

"What have you got for me?" Oliver asked later that evening as he and Digg walked into the foundry to find Felicity already sitting at the bank of computer monitors.

The blonde didn't readily answer as she stared off in front of her, knocking a pen against her bottom lip. Two of the screens in front of her were running searches, while the third played the evening news. The anchorwoman was talking about a Trade Summit happening next week and the effect it would have on the city, but Felicity wasn't paying attention to any of it. She was lost in thought and obviously hadn't even heard the two men approach.

"Felicity!"

She jumped, the pen flying from her hands as she quickly swiveled around in her chair. "What?!" Frantically looking around, she was relieved when she saw Oliver and Diggle standing behind her. "Oh, it's just you."

"You okay?" Digg asked, sidling up next to her and perching himself on the corner of her desk-slash-table. He was studying her with that stare he usually reserved for Oliver when he was hiding something from them and she didn't like it when he did that.

She tried not to shy away from his gaze, but the heat from it was too intense. She turned her chair back around to avoid it. "Fine. I just... lots of things going on in my head. I kind of shut down when I get too overloaded."

"Anything we can help with?" Now, Oliver was studying her.

She glanced up at him before turning away from his gaze, knowing that if she stared into those ice blue depths for too long, he would be able to see through her and she would end up spilling her guts about where she'd been that afternoon. And she just couldn't do that. Not yet. "Nope," she shook her head. "It's nothing a few glasses of wine and a few hours of sleep won't fix." She offered up a smile she knew wasn't very reassuring, but hoped that they would accept what she was giving them.

"It's been a pretty quiet night so far," Digg chimed in as he noticed the lines under Felicity's eyes. She looked exhausted. "Maybe we can call it an early night tonight."

There was a look of relief on her face as she happily accepted that offer. Anything to get away from both of their scrutinizing gazes. "Where's Roy?"

Oliver continued to study her for a beat longer before answering. "Already out on patrol." His voice had shifted to that tender tone he reserved only to speak to her as he placed a hand on her shoulder. She visibly flinched under his touch, then relaxed when he gave it a gentle squeeze, his thumb rubbing against a knot in her muscle she hadn't realized was there. "Did you find the information I asked for?"

"Yeah... or at least as much as I could find." she swiveled her chair around to look at the three computer monitors. "In actuality, there really wasn't much." She typed a command and a few things popped up on screen. "Isla Addams, now Stewart. Born June 25, 1985 in River City, Pennsylvania to Johnathan and Margaret Addams; both of them school teachers. She was named after her grandmother. She graduated from River City College in 2007 with a Bachelors in Computer Sciences. And again in 2010 with a teaching degree. It looks like she was planning on following in her parent's footsteps. She married Rick Stewart in 2013."

"Anything else?" he asked as he leaned over her shoulder, needing to see for himself.

"Well, if I knew what it was you were looking for, I might be able to find out more. But, really Oliver, this woman hasn't gotten so much as a speeding ticket."

He frowned as he read everything for himself. "Any news articles?"

"Is there something you're not telling us, Oliver?" Digg asked as his gaze shifted from the computer screen to his partner. "Do you know this woman?"

"Yeah... you could say that."

"Another ex-girlfriend?" Felicity asked, hoping too late that were words hadn't sounded as bitter to them as they had to her.

Oliver's breath tickled her cheek as he laughed slightly. Felicity was cute when she was jealous. "No. It's nothing like that. She was more like... a sister."

Digg and Felicity shared a look before looking back toward Oliver. The vacancy in his eyes and the hard set of his jaw told them that he was thinking about the time he'd been away and trying to get the story right so he could tell them.

"You weren't always on the island, were you?" Felicity asked, softly.

He shook his head. "No. I spent some time in Russia after... Slade. That's where I met Isla."

 _He could hear two men talking as he was shoved down a dimly-lit corridor. The sack they stuck over his head only let in little specks of light, but he could tell from the little bit of light he could see, he was in a place with no windows. The smell was almost overwhelming. It smelled of rotten food, human waste and—he inwardly cringed at the thought—death._

 _He couldn't understand what his captors were saying. While Anatoly had taught him the basics of Russian, he was far from an expert._

 _He was jerked to a stop and he heard the jingling sound of keys. A creaking, metal door was opened and his hood had been removed. Blinded by the single light bulb that hung above him from the ceiling, he didn't get a look at the two men before they shoved him inside the cell._

 _He called it that, because that's what it was. It was dark and dank with only a small fissure that he could look through and see outside. It was nighttime._

 _Something rustled in the corner, making him jump. It froze as if sensing it was being watched. Frowning, he peered into the darkness, taking in the size of the cell. It was small. He would probably fill up its entire length if he dared to lay down on the ground. There was a bucket in the corner by the door. He had a feeling he knew what that was for and cringed again. In another corner, there was—what looked like—a pile of rags._

 _Only the pile of rags was moving._

 _Freezing again, he instinctively reached for the knife he knew wouldn't be there. Empty handed with his reflexes at the ready, he carefully took a step toward the pile as it shifted again. He took in a shaky breath as he reached for the top of the pile. Grabbing hold of the closest bit of fabric he could get his hands on, he quickly jerked it away, revealing the large, frightened brown eyes of the girl underneath._

"Where were you?" Digg asked. "A prison?"

"Of sorts. I was working for the Bratva at the time and I'd been sent on a mission to infiltrate the Odessa Mafia; our competitors, I guess you could call them. There'd been stories about them trafficking weapons to other people the Bratva had pissed off, but that wasn't all they'd been trafficking."

"People, you mean." Felicity looked a little dumbstruck as Oliver nodded. She wrapped her arms around herself, her palms rubbing against her suddenly cold flesh. "You know, we deal with bad stuff all the time, so you'd think I'd be numb to all of the other bad things that happen in the world." She shook her head, at a loss for words.

"The fact that you still do have a reaction to these bad things is what makes you the person you are, Felicity," Oliver spoke to her in that soft tone again as he looked into her eyes. "Do all of us a favor and never change."

She melted under the heat of his gaze. "No promises," was her sad response as she offered him a solemn, halfhearted smile.

He realized his hand was still on her shoulder, but didn't pull it away. Instead, he allowed it to trail down her arm until her smaller hand was clutched in his. He gave it a tender squeeze of reassurance. "What about her husband?"

"Give me a sec." Reluctantly pulling her hand from his grip, she returned her focus back to the monitors as she did a search for Rick Stewart.

"How did she end up there, Oliver?" Digg asked, now that the moment that had been happening between the two of them had ended.

Oliver swallowed thickly as he remembered the story Isla had told him. "She and a group of friends had taken a trip to Europe the summer after graduation. She'd gotten separated from the rest of the group and they'd taken her, smuggled her over the border into Russia."

"How long had she been there before you arrived?" Felicity asked, though her eyes were one the pages of information that had shown up.

"At least a month or so." His fingers twitched in agitation. He wanted to grab his bow and shoot something. Or better yet, someone.

"I found a few news articles," Felicity said, bringing them up on screen. "There were a bunch from around the time she was taken. They pretty much just say what you just told us. But, I found a few that talk about when she finally returned home. Eighteen months later."

Oliver frown. "Eighteen months?" An icy cold chill ran down her spine. That was six months after she'd been taken for the second time.

"It says here that she'd been wandering the streets of Moscow, disoriented with some memory loss. When she arrived at the American Embassy, she couldn't recount what had happened to her over the six months before she reappeared."

Was that why she hadn't wanted to talk about it at lunch? Because she couldn't remember? Oliver couldn't help but wonder what had happened over that period of time and felt his previous guilt rise back up with renewed vigor. "What about her husband?" he asked again, his voice breaking slightly as it got caught in his throat.

"Not really much there either," she said, bringing up the info she'd found about Rick Stewart. "Rich boy who took over his family's company. But, unlike a certain playboy billionaire we all know and love," she shot a pointed look and a smirk in Oliver's direction before turning back to the screen, "he actually completed his academics with a Masters in Computer Sciences and Technology. He was only twenty at the time, though. He is pretty much a technological genius. I read he upgraded an old apartment complex that his father had bought once on a whim that is ninety-five percent environmentally clean with the best security that money could by. He took over St... StewartTech," her mouth stuttered around the name as she read it and she hoped they hadn't noticed, "when he was twenty-eight and has been running it along with his wife, Isla, since they married two years ago."

"Anything about the company that we should know about?" Digg asked.

Felicity shook her head. "Nothing really out of the ordinary there. I've actually heard it's pretty fabulous to work at. And you should see all of the tech they're working on. They have a 3D computer system that you can manipulate with just your hands. It works by mounting four cameras above a flat computer... and... and the two of you really don't want to hear about this."

"Good call," Oliver winked playfully at her, despite the niggling little feeling in the back of his head that told him something still wasn't right. Something was still haunting Isla. Something dark.

"Everything seems legit, man," Digg chimed in, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Maybe you're just reading too much into this."

Oliver shook his head, his teeth capturing his bottom lip in frustration. "I don't think so. There was something off about her, today at lunch."

"You had lunch today with this woman?" Felicity asked with a hint of jealousy lacing her tone. From where she'd been watching, that certainly hadn't seemed like a sisterly touch she'd laid on his cheek. Where was her pen? She needed something to throw at him.

"Like I said, we're just old friends. She said her husband was away and she was really evasive when I asked about him... am I over-thinking this? Could I be seeing conflict where there isn't any?" He was known to be obsessive about things. He didn't like puzzles and that's what Isla was to him at the moment.

"No," Digg responded as he got to his feet, that one single word speaking volumes. "We've been working together for a long time now, Oliver, and if I've learned anything in that time, your instincts are usually right." And he knew if he were ever in a situation he couldn't handle that Oliver would have his back. That was what Oliver needed from them this time. And they would give him that.

"Plus, you're just being that good person we know you are." Felicity's smile was sweet as she gazed up from him. He was still close enough to her that she could reach out and grab his hand, giving it a firm squeeze.

"But, I'm going to guess that you still want eyes on her, just in case?"

Oliver smiled at his two companions. They always seemed to know when he needed a few kind words of reassurance, but they also knew him so well that they would know what he was thinking before he even thought of it. "Nothing elaborate," he told Digg. "I just think I'll sleep better knowing that she's okay."

"Got it, man." Digg walked over to the blue tool chest in the corner, removing a gun and slipping it into his belt holster. "Just in case," he told Oliver when his friend looked at him in confusion.

"Thanks, John."

"And I have a program running that's attached to their bank accounts. If there's movement of a large amount of money for any strange reason, we'll know about it. I'm also looking to see if her husband used his passport when he 'went away'. That way I can see where he was going and for what reasons."

"So, you hacked the TSA?" Oliver asked with a hint of pride in his voice.

"What?" she asked, with a wide grin. "You act like it's hard or something."

"Thank you, both of you. I know this could be nothing, but she is my friend and I just want to be certain."

"We're with you, Oliver," Digg patted him on the back. "All the way."

"All for one and one for all," Felicity joked as she got up from her chair and reached for her purse. "But, this musketeer has had a long day. If it's okay with the two of you, I'm going to call it a night." She'd set it up so any alerts would be sent to her tablet or phone, yet from what she'd already seen, it was unlikely. But to give Oliver peace of mind, she would pull out all the stops for him

"Sleep well," Oliver told her, tenderly.

"'Night, Felicity," Digg said.

"'Night." Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she didn't waste any time and headed toward the stairs.

Oliver waited until she was gone before turning toward Diggle. "What do you think's going on with her?"

"What makes you think anything's going on?"

He frowned as he crossed over to his bow and pulling it from its glass case. "When I called her this afternoon she was... running." He grabbed a few arrows and walked over to the practice targets in the corner of the room. He nocked one, but didn't draw the string back yet.

"So? You think she might be hiding something too?"

"You think I'm paranoid?"

The larger man shrugged. "I don't know, man. Maybe you want something to be there so you don't have to address the big purple elephant in the room."

Oliver drew back the string and let the first arrow fly. It hit the target, but missed the bulls-eye. Playing it off, he rolled his shoulder as if stretching the muscles and nocked another arrow. "And what is that, exactly?" Though, he already knew what his friend was going to say.

"You told her you loved her."

The younger man flinched slightly as Digg used a tone that made him feel like he was being scolded. "I know." Did Digg believe that the guilt didn't eat him up inside on a daily basis? Because it did. He loved Felicity, but she deserved so much more than what he could give her. She deserved hearts and flowers and all he could give her was heartbreak and misery. It was what he was good at. It was all he'd ever been good at. "I just can't give her what she wants, John."

"She wants you," was Digg's response, hoping it would affect Oliver on a baser, male level. "It's all she's ever wanted."

"And what happens when I give her what she wants? What happens when she gets hurt because of who I am? Everyone in my life that I've loved, I've hurt. I can't bear to do the same to her."

Diggle shook his head as he watched Oliver finally fire his second arrow. It missed the target completely. He reached up and patted his friend on the shoulder. "The only problem I see with that logic, man, is that you already are." With that, Diggle turned to exit the foundry, leaving Oliver to stew in his mental torment.


	6. Chapter Six

_**Hello all! It's time for another installment. As always, thank you for reading! And remember, flashbacks are in** italics **.**_

 _ **Enjoy!**_

 _ **Linny**_

* * *

 **Anything For Love**

 **Chapter Six**

"Knock, knock!" the words were preceded by a few light taps on her door frame.

Looking up from the large mound of paperwork in front of her, Isla felt the hint of a smile curl to her lips. Oliver stood there, leaning against the door jam, his hands in the pockets of his khakis. He wore a blue button up that fitted the lines of his hard body, the sleeves rolled up to reveal the muscles of his forearms. He was drop dead gorgeous and he knew that. He'd even monopolized on that fact more than once, she'd wager.

"Hi," she grinned at him, happy to be looking at something more appealing than legal documents. "What brings you into my world?"

Pushing himself away from the door, he stepped into the room, taking in the décor. Two white couches took up the center of the room, divided by a coffee table made of cherry wood. A vase of fresh flowers—lilies, her favorite if he recalled correctly—rested on it. Reaching out, he touched one of the delicate petals with his index finger. "Well, we left things kind of awkward the other day." A day and a half had passed since their lunch date and he was no closer to finding out her secrets.

He watched her carefully as she sat behind her large mahogany desk, the wall behind her decorated with images of beautiful, calming places and a few awards gifted to the company for their hard work at being environmentally friendly. A mask had settled over her features, as he thought it would. "I don't want to talk about it, Oliver."

He held his hands up in surrender as he approached the desk, settling himself into one of the plush leather armchairs sitting in front of it. "I know. I only came to apologize. I pushed too hard and I know that's something that you didn't need. I know that you're more than capable of handling things yourself." But, if she needed his help, he would give it to her at a moment's notice, was what he'd left out of the conversation. The words hadn't needed to be spoken, anyway. His message was clear.

"I'm glad you're finally seeing things my way," she teased as she closed the file sitting open in front of her, resting her pen on top of it as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Yeah, I've been told that I can be kind of an ass," he chuckled, using one of his biggest flaws to get back on her good side.

"By your girlfriend?" she questioned, obviously fishing for information and trying to draw his attention from the topic he'd started.

He shook his head, resting his elbows on the arms of the chair as he shifted in his seat. "I told you... it's complicated."

She nodded in agreement. "Fair enough." Her own love life was probably just as complicated if not more so. "And you don't need to check up on me, Oliver." Oh, yes. She knew his reasons for his visit. He might have plenty of people fooled when it came to his true intentions, but he was forgetting how long they'd known each other and how closely they'd worked together in the past.

"That obvious, huh?" He was pretending to look wounded, like he'd been caught, but he knew she would catch on. She was smart like that.

She shrugged. "A little."

"It's been five years, Isla. Can you blame me for being worried about you?" After all, he'd done it since the beginning with her, trapped in that tiny cell, struggling to survive.

"Nyet _!_ Nyet _!" the girl cried out as she scrambled away and as far into the corner of the small cell she could manage._

" _Hey, hey," he murmured to her in a tender tone he'd always used with his sister Thea, he placed a gentle hand on her arm. "I'm not going to hurt you," he tried to reassure her when she jerked away from his touch._

 _She stared at him in fear, continuing to shrink away from him. She was determined to make herself as small as possible. "You're American."_

 _The words had been spoken so quietly that Oliver wasn't sure he'd heard them at first, but the way she was looking up at him in question was enough for him to know she had said them. "Yes. So are you."_

 _She nodded before shifting into the light trickling in from the fissure in the wall, but making sure to still keep her distance._

 _Oliver was shocked at the state of her appearance. From what he could see of her, she was filthy from head to toe. Her brown hair was greasy and matted, hanging down passed her shoulders in clumps. She was skinny, almost emaciated. He had to wonder about the food in this place. If there even was any._

" _My name is Oliver. What's yours?"_

" _Isla."_

 _There was a tremor in her voice that made her sound so frightened. He could only imagine the things they'd done to her while she'd been in here. "How long have you been here, Isla?"_

 _Her lower lip quivered as tears flooded her eyes. Large and wide, they darted around the room frantically as she tried to figure it out. "I... I don't know. I was on a trip with my friends when these two guys grabbed me... and... and..." she broke out into sobs that shook her entire fragile frame._

 _Without thinking about how she would react, Oliver reached out to her and pulled her into his arms. She didn't fight against him. She was probably too weak to. She melted into the firmness of his warm chest, giving a slight shiver. His hand touched the skin of her upper arm, feeling how cold she was._

" _Shhh, everything will be okay." he whispered to her he tried to warm her up by rubbing his hands up and down the length of her back. The air in her chest rattled slightly, he realized. She was close to contracting pneumonia. "I'll take care of you. I promise."_

 _But, he wasn't sure if she'd heard him speak. She'd fallen asleep in his embrace, her head lolling against his shoulder. He didn't move her. This was probably the deepest sleep she'd had in a long time and she would need all the rest she could get if she was going to get better._

 _And he would keep his promise. He would take care of her. And when he broke out of this hell hole, he was going to take her with him._

She shook her head, her thoughts having obviously going in the same direction as his own. "No, I can't. Because I feel the same about you. I can't help but worry about you after everything you've been through. A lesser man would have cracked by now."

There was something in her eyes that told him that she knew exactly how he was feeling. Her world was falling apart around her, just as his was. Stifling a curse, he resisted the urge to get up and wrap her up in his arms. He wanted to help her; to protect her from whatever it was that was wrong. Instead, he remained in his seat, clenching his fists until his fingernails dug into the flesh of his palms.

"I'm not most men," he finally responded, eying a framed photograph sitting at the corner of her desk. He swiveled it in his direction, catching the sparkling depths of the eyes of the two people featured. "This is him, then." It was a statement more than a question. He could tell who the man in the picture was just by the reaction it elicited from Isla's photographic counterpart.

Her eyes were brighter than he'd ever seen them, her smile completely genuine as she stared up into his eyes. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, a small bouquet of flowers clutched in one hand, her wedding and engagement rings sparkling in the sunlight. She'd made a beautiful bride.

"It was a small ceremony on his family's property in River City. They had this beautiful little gazebo in the middle of the most beautiful gardens you've ever seen." She smiled wistfully as she thought back to that day. Her hand had found its way back to that chain around her neck, twisting and untwisting it around her fingers.

"You look absolutely beautiful." He placed the frame back on the desk, his gaze shifting her to face. She hadn't realized he'd turned his attention back to her, though. Her eyes her glazed over as she lost herself to whatever it was plaguing her mind. There was the distinct sheen of tears in her eyes.

Blinking rapidly, they quickly vanished as she reconstructed the mental wall that had buckled for a short moment. "Rick has that way about him. He makes me feel beautiful."

Was that a quiver of her chin he'd just seen? His mouth opened to say something, but what could he say? He could try pressure her into telling him what was wrong, but she would only retreat more into herself.

Sighing, he reached across the desk and took hold of her hand. He thought she might pull away from his touch, but she actually clutched at him with all the strength she could muster. She didn't realize it but, her body was silently asking him for his help.

"Hey, how about dinner tonight? It'll be my treat, this time."

Freeing herself from his grip, she wiggled slightly in her seat and brushed a stray bit of hair out of her eyes. She was putting her CEO persona back in place before speaking to him again. "It sounds wonderful, but I can't. I already have plans tonight with... another old friend. Perhaps another time?" Her tone was cold and detached from her usual self; completely different than what it had been a few minutes before.

He knew a brush off when he was getting it, but coming from Isla, it was like a slap in the face. She was dismissing him and there was nothing he could do about it. "Yeah. Sure." Extracting himself from the chair, he looked at her in a mix of confusion and worry. "I'll just let you get back to work then, huh?" He paused for a moment, awaiting a response, but it didn't come.

Turning he headed toward the door.

"Oliver," she sighed in frustration.

He turned back to look at her, allowing the hurt to show in his features. "Yes?"

The smile she turned his way was kind, but only half of what he knew it could be. "Thanks for stopping by. It was good to see a friendly face."

He didn't know what he'd been expecting, but that hadn't been it. What exactly had she meant by 'it was good to see a friendly face'? His jaw was tense as he tried to read between the lines, but all he was getting was a headache. "Of course. Anytime." He paused at the opened door, waiting to see if she would call him back inside. It didn't come, though. "I'll call you."

He didn't wait for a response, this time. Walking out, his body was set in a determined stride. He had to wait until he got back to the security checkpoint in the lobby of the building before making a call. They'd confiscated his cell-phone when he'd entered the building, claiming it was a security issue if he took it inside with him. It was good to know for future reference if he ever had to return as Oliver Queen. He had the feeling the Arrow would be paying her a visit first.

Stepping outside the building, he picked up his helmet from the seat of his Ducati as he dialed the phone with his other hand. It rang three times before the person on the other end picked up. "Foundry. One hour."

* * *

Felicity pounded away at her keyboard as the sounds of grunts and moans reached her ears. Peering behind her with a pen poised in between her teeth, she saw Oliver and Roy sparring on the mats. And it looked like Oliver was winning. Digg was standing by as—what he claimed—referee, but she knew it was really in case Oliver got too out of hand as he was likely to do when he was bothered by a particular case.

She winced in pain as she watched the more proficient fighter raise his knee, knocking the wind out of his younger counterpart. Roy took it like a champ, countering the attack as best he could. He still ended up on his back, though.

"Oliver, maybe you should take it easy on the kid," Digg said when the two broke apart, breathing heavily with sweat pouring from their bodies.

"Nah, I can take it," Roy winced as he pushed himself up from the mat. His limbs protested slightly.

"Yeah, well, you don't have Mirakuru on your side anymore, you have to remember that."

"Like I could forget," he grumbled as he reached for his water bottle, accepting the towel that Oliver threw his way.

"Sorry about that," Oliver apologized, but it was clear his mind had been only half-focused on the fight. "You're still relying too much on your strength, though. Your reflexes are your greatest ally."

Roy merely shrugged, wincing again as he rolled his shoulders. He wasn't really hurt. They were just sore from overuse. Oliver had a lot on his mind and had lost himself in the fight. He'd tried to take advantage of that, but it was clear he still had a lot to learn. "I'll try to remember that."

Felicity's hold on the pen loosened as an alert popped up on her screen. "Guys you need to come and see this." She furiously typed, bringing up the information her program had found for her.

Three sweaty, male bodies surrounded her, almost to the point of suffocation.

"What did you find out?" Oliver asked as he slung his towel over the back of his neck, his hands hanging from the tail ends of it.

"A large amount of money was just withdrawn from one of StewartTech's accounts."

"How large of an amount?" Digg asked, leaning over the computer screens, one hand resting on the flat surface of her desk.

"Is a quarter of a million dollars large enough for you?" she asked, worrying her lower lip with her teeth.

"What would she need with that much money?" Roy asked.

"I have a theory," she said as she swiveled in her chair. "I did a search on Rick Stewart's passport and..."

"And?" Oliver asked, already knowing that he wouldn't like the answer.

"And it hasn't been used in the last three months. And the last time it was, it was used on a trip he took to Japan. Not Europe, like she said."

"So, she lied." Digg eyed Oliver worriedly as he said those words aloud, but it didn't elicit the response of anger he was suspecting. Oliver already knew.

"So, what does this mean?" Roy asked, completely confused.

Felicity's ponytail bobbed back and forth as she shook her head. "I don't know, but I was doing a little digging and I found this one article." Turning her chair back around, she clicked a button and the page in question appeared on screen. "It talks about an incident that happened outside the apartment complex she and her husband live in. I thought it was a complete coincidence, until I did a little more digging."

The three men remained silent as she did her thing, bringing up a copy of a medical report for a man none of them recognized. "Meet Joe Parker. He was Mr. Stewart's bodyguard up until six weeks ago when he was shot in the line of duty. He's still alive. He was struck in the shoulder by a high-caliber bullet that severely damaged the muscle. He's currently still in rehab until he has full motion of it again."

"So, what was it?" Digg asked. "A snatch and grab?"

"That's where the article gets a little fuzzy. It's like they're trying to play it off as being completely random. The couple is never even mentioned, but it can't just be a coincidence."

"So, you think these guys kidnapped Stewart." Roy stated it like a fact because that was exactly the way Felicity had presented it.

She nodded, solemnly. "It makes the most sense, doesn't it? The only problem is that there's no police report of it and as far as I can tell, no investigation into it."

"So, maybe she arranged to have her husband kidnapped," Digg spoke his thoughts aloud, hoping that they would make sense. "For what reason? So she could take over as CEO?"

"That's one part that doesn't make sense. She was already CEO of the company when this happened. She handled the business end of things while he dealt with the development. From what I could tell, they worked together side-by-side and from the numbers they were bringing in, it was working. I would still like to get into her personal files, though," she added as an afterthought. But to do that, she would need access to her personal laptop.

"When did all of this happen?" Oliver finally chimed in after his long silence. His short hair was as ruffled as it could get. He'd obviously been running his hands through it as she'd delivered her findings.

"Exactly six weeks before she arrived in Starling."

That was all the incentive he needed. Turning on his heels, he walked over to the glass case that housed his bow. Taking hold of it, he weighed it in his hand.

"Where are you going, Oliver?" Digg questioned with a hint of warning in his tone. "You know it won't do any good to approach her."

"Like I said, it was only a theory," Felicity added as she hurried to her feet, chasing after him. "I could be wrong."

He knew it was a possibility, that was why he wasn't going to do anything rash. "I just need some air," his eyes were soft as he looked directly at their female partner, but he was speaking to all of them. "I'm going on patrol. I need to clear my head."

"I'll go with you," Roy piped in, reaching for his own bow. Oliver opened his mouth to protest, but the youngest member of their team wouldn't let him. "This city is too big for you to patrol it alone. It'll help to have another set of eyes."

Caving, Oliver ultimately agreed, though the kid had left little room for argument. "Call me if you find anything else," he told Felicity, before reaching for his uniform and going to change.

"Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid, Digg," she told him as she wrapped her arms around herself, a cold chill settling down her spine.

"Don't worry, Felicity," he said with a gentle touch to her arm. "I've got his back."


	7. Chapter Seven

_**I know I'm a few days late with this next chapter. Forgive me. It's been a busy weekend. Now, that being said, I might not be able to post this friday/saturday. I am going out of town to visit family and might possibly be too busy to update. I will try when I get home Sunday night, though.**_

 _ **Now, on to the story. Hope everyone is up for a bit of action.** Italics **in this chapter are words spoken in Russian. I will implement some real Russian words into the story later, but if I did it with chapter, it wouldn't follow the flow I was trying to go for.**_

 _ **Hope you enjoy!**_

 _ **Linny  
**_

* * *

 **Anything For Love**

 **Chapter Seven**

It was a quiet night in Starling. Not really unusual since the Arrow had made the scene, but Oliver was hoping for some kind of action to take his mind off of Isla and the possible trouble she might be in. Felicity's theory did make sense. Too much sense, but then if Rick had been kidnapped, why hadn't she notified the police? Or the feds? Why was she trying to do this all on her own?

But,then, if he hadn't been kidnapped, then where was he? Stewart's passport was supposed to be the key to locating him, but had instead turned into another dead end. If he wasn't in Europe, then where was he?

There were too many question and not enough answers.

Like, who was this woman that Isla had become? When he'd known her, even with everything she'd endured in her captivity in that poor excuse of a cell, there had been a light in her eyes. He'd caught a few glimpses of that light a few times, recently, but it had quickly dimmed before disappearing altogether. She wasn't the same Isla he remembered. It was like she'd reverted back to that scared girl he'd first encountered five years ago.

"Quiet night."

Oliver shook himself free of his thoughts as Diggle's voice came over the comm. Oliver knew his friend wouldn't be able to easily let things go. "I thought you went home."

"Well, it was such a nice night, that I thought I would go for a drive around the city. Besides, Lyla wants me to try to build the crib and that's just a headache I don't need right now."

Oliver stifled a chuckle as her thought about the A.R.G.U.S. agent and John's ex-wife who was now having his child. Their history was beginning to read like a soap opera, but Oliver liked Lyla. She was strong-willed and a total badass. She complimented Diggle to the highest extent. And now they were bringing another life into the world.

A twinge of jealousy poked at Oliver's heart. John and Lyla were starting a family. It was something Oliver would probably never get to have, despite the fact that he was longing for it more and more these days. He even knew who he wanted it with, but it wouldn't be a smart move for him. There was just too much danger in his life to bring another person into his world.

It was depressing. Everyone else around him was moving on and he was still stuck in the same rut he'd been in for years. Sometimes life wasn't fair.

"Let's face it, Digg. You just came out here to make sure I didn't do anything stupid." Of course he knew the real reason Digg was braving the shadows of the Glades when he could be at home with the woman he loved. But, it didn't mean he didn't appreciate the thought.

"It was only a theory, Oliver," Digg didn't hesitate to remind the younger man.

"I know. But, it doesn't mean it isn't true. She's hiding something, Digg. I know it."

"And you're going to jump on the bandwagon that she possibly had her husband kidnapped? Or worse, killed?"

"You don't understand. The time we had together in Russia made us close. We didn't keep secrets from each other. And she'd reminded me so much of Thea."

"You of all people know that just because someone is family, it doesn't mean they're a good person."

Oliver snorted a laugh as he let Diggle's words sink in. That seemed to be his family's motto. He bet he could send a psychiatrist's kid or two to an Ivy League college with the amounts of issues he had because of his mother and father. Of course, he would need to have the money to pay for that first.

Still, there had been those other six months that she'd been missing. What had happened to her during that time? Did that have something to do with what was going on now? Ugh! There were still too many questions.

A defeated sigh passed through his lips, his head hanging low in frustration. He wasn't going to find the answers he needed on some rooftop and he knew he was driving the team insane with this latest obsession of his.

Hitting the comm in the center of his chest, he waited for the telltale beep in his ear that told him that all lines were open. "Okay, let's wrap things up and head home."

"Wait," Roy's voice came over the comm.

Oliver rolled his eyes at the boy. Ever since Thea had left for Italy, Roy had thrown himself into his work. He went out on patrol almost every night and he worked out and practiced with his bow almost every day. Oliver knew he was doing it to rid himself of the hurt and perhaps even a bit of the guilt he felt, but Oliver also knew that it almost always made things worse.

"No, Roy. Head home. You've been doing some good work, lately. You deserve a break. We all do."

"No, Oliver. I just spotted your friend."

Why did that statement suddenly make his blood run cold. "Where?"

"She just walked into Rasputin's."

Oliver cursed under his breath. "Digg?"

"Already on my way."

"Felicity?"

"I'm hacking into Starling's traffic cams to see what kind of vantage point I can get." There was the distinct sound of her fingers flying over her keyboard reverberating through their earpieces. "Oliver, why would she go there?"

"No good reason," he muttered under his breath as he quickly moved from his perch and bounded across three rooftops in the direction of Rasputin's.

It was a restaurant used as a front for the Chechen mafia. And Andrei Rasputin was an evil son of a bitch. While Oliver hadn't exactly had the pleasure—or lack thereof—of dealing with him, the stories about him were legendary with the Bratva.

"Talk to me, Roy. What's going on? He was too far away, if anything happened to Isla, he wouldn't get there in time. He needed to rely on Roy and he needed his partner to stay focused.

"They're talking." He was perched atop the roof across the street from the restaurant with a clear view through the front windows as the two greeted each other formally. He couldn't hear, though. "I need to get closer to hear what they're saying."

"No need," Felicity chimed in as she broke into the camera feed. There was a street camera right below Roy, so she could see what he could. "I've been tinkering with some of the trick arrows. There's a transmitter arrow in your quiver. Get it as close to them as you can and we should all be able to hear what they're saying."

"You really are a genius, Felicity Smoak," the note of pride in Digg's voice made them all smile.

"Not a genius. Just well-prepared. Although, I think I deserve a raise."

"Only one problem with that," Oliver chimed in as he leaped over a large gap between buildings. "I'm broke and you don't work for me anymore."

"That's actually two problems," she muttered.

Roy rolled his eyes at the two of them as he reached into his quiver for the arrow in question. Locating it, he nocked it into his bow and drew back the string. "How will I know if this works?" As much as he wanted Oliver and Felicity to accept their feelings for one another, he really couldn't stand how disgustingly cute they were at times.

"It should activate as soon as it hits its target. I've programmed it to air directly over the comms."

"Right." Taking in a deep breath, Roy let it out slowly before releasing.

Swinging down from a fire escape, Oliver paused as he waited. At first, all he would hear was the blood rushing in his ears. Then there was a crackling sound and two new voices were now in his ear. He broke back into a run again, hopping up onto a closed dumpster. He chain-jumped between two walls of separate buildings, his hands catching on the rooftop. Pulling himself up, he eyed his location.

Just a few more blocks to go. He cursed under her breath, though. He wished he would have thought to bring his bike, but he hadn't exactly been thinking in the right mind at the time.

"Felicity, what are they saying?" Digg asked as he pulled his car up to the curb at the end of the block. Turning off the engine, he checked his gun and then waited.

"I don't know. It's not English."

"It's Russian," Oliver told them. Isla could speak almost perfect Russian. Just like he could.

"Do you know what they're saying?" Roy asked.

"Yes." Oliver's icy tone caused a chill to run down all of their spines. What he was hearing was obviously bad enough that he didn't want to elaborate. All he could do what pick up his pace.

Until then, though, Roy would continue to keep a lookout.

* * *

" _I have to admit, I was surprised to get your call. The last I'd heard, you were no longer in this business._ " Andrei eyed her speculatively from across the table as he continued to speak in Russian. There was a bottle and two glasses of vodka between them. Neither had reached to take a drink, though. That would be saved for when they concluded their business.

" _I'm not. I just want the information I asked for._ " Isla's back was ramrod straight as she sat in her seat. She'd chosen to sit with her back to the window because the bigger threat was inside of the building, not out. She knew all about Andrei and his reputation to turn on his friends. She wasn't exactly one of his friends in the first place and he wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet through her.

" _The money?_ "

She noticed the way the five guards behind Andrei shifted as her hand went to reach into the pocket of her leather jacket. She'd dressed casually for the occasion, because it was easier to make a getaway in a pair of jeans and her sneakers than it would be in heels. Not that she would need to make a getaway. She expected everything to go as planned as long as Andrei got his money.

Arching an eyebrow in question, she glared at them. " _You know I'm not armed._ " They'd checked as soon as she'd walked through the door.

" _Yes, but they also know a threat when they see one._ "

She didn't take offense to that. In fact, she seemed pleased. " _Good. Glad to know we're all on the same page._ " Removing a thick, white envelope, she laid it on the table and began to push it in Andrei's direction. He reached out to grab it, but she stopped it just an inch too far out of his reach. " _The information?_ "

He smirked at her as he reached into his pocket. It was almost one of admiration. When his hand emerged again, he held a small USB flash drive. He mimicked her move of pushing it toward her, stopping just short of her reach. " _As promised._ "

They both released their trade items and reached out for what they'd come for. They only stopped when the lights flickered out.

"Isla Stewart..."

She froze at the sound of the deep voice. The words had been spoken in English. It wasn't his real voice, though. It was being distorted electronically. She'd read about him, tried to prepare herself for when this meeting inevitably happened. She'd just been hoping it wouldn't be this soon. Turning her gaze toward the front door, she took in the sight of the vigilante as he stood in the shadow of the moonlight. Clad in his green suit, he had an arrow pointed in her direction.

"You shouldn't be here," she told him, her tone menacing.

Andrei and his guards aimed their guns in his direction, but he paid them no notice. His focus was solely on her. "You don't know what you're dealing with here. These men are dangerous."

"They're not the only ones."

He wanted to question that statement, but this wasn't a meeting just between friends. This was a confrontation and he was dressed as the Arrow.

He watched as she reached for the flash drive, but he stopped her by firing an arrow into the center of the table. The look she shot him was as cold as ice. She'd never looked at him that way before. "You'll regret this," she told him before running away, toward the back alley of the restaurant.

Andrei's men opened fire, but he fired three more arrows in rapid succession, knocking away three of the guns. Reaching for one of his trick arrows, he nocked it and quickly fired it into the ceiling.

He pressed a button on his comm, opening the line to Roy. "She's headed your way," he said as there was a bright flash of light as the electricity shorted out completely, bulbs bursting from the electrical surge. The room turned completely dark.

It was then that he was able to incapacitate the Chechen mobsters. They continued to fire their weapons into the darkness, but he was just too fast for them. They were all knocked unconscious with their hands tied behind their backs with zip ties over the course of a few minutes.

The muscle taken care of, he grabbed at the envelope and flash drive on the table and pocketed them both. He then followed Isla's path to the back alley. Roy was already in position. He had one of his own red arrows aimed right at her. The Arrow was behind her now too, his weapon nocked and ready. He held up the drive, showing it to her. "Tell us what we're going to find on here."

She shook her head, her gaze focused on the tiny piece of metal and plastic in his hand. There was no fear in her eyes—only want—and the muscles in her legs and back were tight, like she would run the first chance she got. "Give that to me. That cost me a lot of money."

He reached into the pocket of his uniform and removed the envelope. He tossed it lightly and it landed right by her feet. "It could possibly cost you even more for even thinking you could make a deal with Andrei Rasputin. Does your life mean so little to you?"

"It's not that," she told him, though she didn't exactly know the reason why she was saying the words. She didn't owe him any kind of explanation for her actions. "It's just that there is someone out there who means more to me."

"We can help you."

She shook her head, tears glinting in her eyes. "No. You can't."

She moved so quick that Oliver wasn't expecting it. She charged toward him, her foot making contact with his solo plexus. He doubled over, feeling the flash drive slip from his fingers. It never hit the ground. She grabbed it out of the air before doing a spin-kick to his temple. He fell to the ground, the world spinning around him as his equilibrium was knocked off balance.

He heard the familiar _woosh_ of an arrow as it flew in their direction. The red shaft wiggling back and forth as it became imbedded in the brick wall next to him. The alley continued to tilt on its axis as she heard her and Roy begin to fight. He saw Roy fall down, but he was quick to get back to his feet.

There was the sound of electricity crackling. Roy cried out in pain before falling back to the ground. He wasn't getting back up though. And she was getting away. Hitting the comm, Oliver shook his head, hoping it would help. She'd hit him in the perfect spot to knock him completely off-kilter. That wasn't a move he'd ever taught her.

"Diggle..." he groaned as a wave of nausea washed over him. His stomach rolled and it threatened to empty its contents. "Right front pocket."

"I've got her." He'd gotten out of the car and was now walking casually walking down the street, trying to blend in with the rest of the pedestrians walking along the sidewalk. He spotted her a few yards ahead of him and she was coming at him quickly.

He made his move when she was a few feet in front of him, bumping into her smaller form and almost knocking her off balance.

"So sorry," he said to her, catching her arms with the gentle touch of one hand as he pretended to check her over. His hand slipped into her pocket, his fingers catching on the drive and pulling it free without her ever being the wiser.

"It's fine," she said quickly as she continued to race down the sidewalk.

But he could see it clearly wasn't fine. Her eyes were wide in almost fear and her hands had trembled when she'd braced them against his chest. No, things weren't fine at all.

"Diggle?" Oliver's voice came over the comm, his voice clearly pained.

He held the drive up to his line of sight, taking a good look at it. He squeezed it in his palm before pocketing in. "I've got it."

"Good, now I need your help. Roy's hurt."


	8. Chapter Eight

_**So, it looks like I was able to keep my promise and post today. Yay! I'm packed and ready for my trip, so I hope you enjoy this next installment.**_

 _ **Note:** Italics **in this chapter equal** flashback **.**_

 _ **Ta-ta for now!**_

 _ **Linny**_

* * *

 **Anything For Love**

 **Chapter Eight**

 _Oliver was woken up the next morning by the sounds of footsteps outside their cell. A small flap on the bottom of the door was pried up and a tray was thrust inside. Some sort of liquid sloshed over the sides of the two bowls that rested on the tray._

" _Breakfast," Isla murmured sleepily as she came into alertness. Realizing she'd fallen asleep in his arms, she shifted uncomfortable away from him and avoided his gaze._

 _Oliver looked down at her, seeing a pink hue dusting her cheeks as she gazed up at him. It was better than the pallid color she'd worn the night before. "How did you sleep?" he asked, though he already knew the answer. While she'd slept the entire night, it had been fitful. Her dreams were obviously haunted by her time here._

" _Better than I have since I first arrived," she frowned as she thought about it. "You didn't have to stay with me all night, though. You could have moved me."_

 _No he couldn't have, he told himself vehemently. She'd been alone for far too long and but the way she'd whimpered and talked in her sleep last night, she'd needed the comfort he'd offered her._

" _I didn't mind." He seemed surprised that he'd actually meant it. After all of his time on the island, fighting against Fyers and Slade turning against him when he'd learned of Shado's death. And then there was the time he'd already spent in Russia with Anatoly and the Bratva. All the men he'd killed over the last two and a half years... he'd expected to feel like a hollow shell of his former self. But, the way he'd cared for this girl, it seemed like the old Oliver was still inside of him somewhere. Buried deep down inside, perhaps._

 _He knew he wouldn't be able to just leave this girl to her own devices. She needed him and he would give her what she needed. Whether that was a friend or a protector._

" _Come on. You should eat." His muscles ached as he got up from the hard, cold ground, his joints protesting slightly as he made his way over to the food._

 _He frowned as he looked down at what was on the tray. Two bowls were only halfway filled with a thin brown liquid that looked more like what the aftereffects of eating something like this would be. There were also two small bread rolls. He touched one. It was already stale._

 _No wonder the girl looked like she did. If this was all she'd been eating throughout her time there, no wonder she looked so malnourished._

" _It's not as bad as it looks," she told him as she noted his frown._

 _He sighed as he sat back down beside her, holding out the tray. She grabbed one of the bowls and a roll, eying the other one with a hunger so fierce burning in her eyes._

" _Take it," he told her. He was hungry, yes. But he'd been hungry before, too. He knew how to handle it. And she obviously needed it more than he did._

 _She shook her head, despite her mouth watering at just the idea of a second helping. "I can't. You need to eat too."_

" _I'll be fine." He didn't leave any room for argument as he picked up the roll and depositing it on her lap. "You need your strength."_

 _She scoffed lightly as she picked a piece off of the stale bread and dipped in into the bowl of quickly cooling broth. "For what?" She sounded defeated like she'd already accepted the fact that she was going to be stuck here forever._

 _Oliver wasn't going to let her die there, though. "Because, I'm going to break out of here. And I'm taking you with me."_

* * *

"What are you thinking?" Felicity asked as she pressed a damp cloth to Oliver's temple. The kick he'd received to the head had caused a small gash, but it was nothing a couple butterfly bandages wouldn't fix.

Oliver didn't say anything at first. His eyes just bored into Roy's motionless form as he lay on the med table. He was going to be okay, Digg had assured him. He was just unconscious. Being almost electrocuted would do that to a person. He wasn't sure what kind of taser Isla had been armed with, but it had certainly been powerful. Oliver had seen grown men crumble under the current a standard-issued taser delivered, but it had been almost an hour already and the kid still hadn't woken up. Whatever it had been, it had been high-powered enough to possibly kill Roy. And he just didn't know what to think about that.

"Everything," he finally responded simply, his shoulders slumping.

"Roy is going to be okay, Oliver. If he hadn't been wearing his uniform it could have been a lot worse." She looked closely at his cut making sure she'd cleaned it of all the dirt. When she was satisfied that she had, she reached for one of the butterfly bandages she'd laid out beside him.

"I know." And he did. It could have been much worse. If Roy hadn't been wearing his suit, then things could have turned out very differently. The only thing the kid would have to deal with was the amount of pain he would be in. The burn across the width of his chest was proof of that.

"There's something else that's bothering you." She rolled her eyes at her choice of words. "Not that everything isn't bothering you."

He winced as she pinched the skin on his temple together and flattened one bandage over the cut. She quickly apologized, but she couldn't be sure he'd heard it. His thoughts were clearly elsewhere. "It's something Rasputin said to her. He said that he thought she wasn't into this line of work anymore."

"The Bratva, you mean?" she asked as she applied the second bandage.

He nodded, his eyes clouding over slightly. "Yeah."

She was reaching for the other bandage before she stopped and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Worry lines had formed on her brow and her mouth was turned down in the way it did when she was worried. "Have I ever told you how scary your past is?"

He took hold of one of her hands, giving it a gentle squeeze. It was as much for comfort for him as it was for her. But he never gave her a verbal response. He knew there was no need to acknowledge it. He knew just how scary his past was.

She began to apply the second bandage. "What happened after the two of you got away?"

Oliver didn't react as her fingers brushed over his injury this time. "Anatoly took us in. She was still very weak from lack of proper food. She was under his protection after that."

"And you said she knew how to fight. Did she learn that from you?" Despite the fact that she was using these questions about Isla to distract Oliver from fretting over Roy's motionless form, she had to admit that her tactic was working. If not for his worry, then hers.

"I taught her a bit of self-defense and how to handle a gun, but it was nothing near what I saw tonight." Tonight had been much different. She'd received some training from the last time he'd seen her. He just hated to think what that might have entailed.

"So, what happened?"

His large shoulders lifted and fell heavily as he sighed. "I wish I knew. About a year after we met, someone had broken into Anatoly's bar and took her."

"And six months later, she was found lost and disoriented in Moscow," she finished for him.

"I was on a mission when it happened. And I saw the aftermath. I'd feared that she was dead, but something inside of me told me to keep my faith alive. That she was out there somewhere. I looked for her, but they'd disappeared without a trace."

"Until now." Felicity noted the sheen of tears in Oliver's eyes and knew that the guilt was eating him up inside. "Oliver, there was nothing you could have done."

"That's not true. I could have done a lot. I should have just stayed there with her and protected her like I promised I would."

"And you think that would have worked?" She was skeptical. "Believe it or not, Oliver, bad things happen everyday and they're not always your fault. You can't just worry that something might go wrong. She chose to stay with you when she could have gone straight to the embassy so she could go home." She paused for only a second as she suddenly realized just how heavy this conversation was getting. She wasn't just talking about Isla anymore. She was now talking about herself. "You're worth sticking around for."

"Felicity," he murmured, his eyes shooting up to meet hers. Her meaning had been so clear that it had shocked him to the core.

The breath caught in her throat as she watched his pupils dilate, feeling his thumb as it made circles around the back of her hand. It seemed he'd realized the same thing as she had. Definitely too heavy of a subject to be talking about when one of their friends was laying unconscious just a few feet away. "I'm going to treat Roy's burns so they'll be ready for when Digg gets back with enough salve."

Slipping away from him as she headed toward the first-aid cabinet, she could finally breathe again. She put away the supplies she'd pulled out to treat Oliver's wound, using the time as a distraction from her sudden rampant thoughts. Things had certainly escalated between the two of them in the last three months, but they had yet to bridge that chasm that still hovered between them. It seemed a bit smaller to her now, though.

Oliver was just so stubborn at times.

There were days that he would treat her like a fragile porcelain doll; like she hadn't gone twenty-some odd years without him. Those were the days that she wanted to kick him the most.

Then there were days when he would encourage and even praise how badass she could be. Those were the days that she enjoyed the most. It showed her that the wall he'd erected since arriving back home was slowly beginning to crumble. He was allowing her in more and more, but there was still too much of a barrier for him to allow her into his heart. She knew it would happen eventually, which was why she didn't push him. Until the day that the wall exploded in a blaze of glory, she would remain by his side as his friend and partner but still waiting for when they could be more.

Reaching for the bottle containing a burn wash, she jumped as a hand touched her shoulder. Wide-eyed, she looked up at Oliver as he reached for the bottle himself. She hadn't even heard his approach. His scent suddenly invaded her personal space as did his heat. "Here, let me do that. You should start working on the flash drive."

She swallowed thickly as she continued staring up at him. For some reason, it felt like he was testing her; seeing if he could get a rise out of her or something. Luckily, she'd had enough time to get herself under control. "Are you sure? It won't take very long."

He nodded, offering her the hint of a smile. It was a bit different than the usual halfhearted one he would usually offer. She'd only seen this particular one once or twice before. It was kind of nice to see. "Yeah. I've got this."

She nodded, before heading to her bank of computers, eager to escape the aura of manliness that was beginning to wash over her like a warm blanket. All she'd wanted to do was lay her head on his chest and wrap herself up in all that manliness.

She was halfway across the room before turning back around, her lower lip tucked shyly between her pearly-white teeth. Oliver's eyes glittered slightly with amusement as she held out her hand. "I need the stick," she told him, the flush of embarrassment creeping up the back of her neck.

He chuckled slightly before he removed it from the pocket of his Arrow jacket—which he still wore, though it was unzipped to reveal his black Under Armour shirt—and handed it over to her. She turned back without another word and he didn't hesitate to watch her go. Something had shifted between them with the words she'd said to him. She said he was worth sticking around for and he hoped she meant it.

Shaking his thoughts away, he returned his attention back to Roy. He could focus on he and Felicity later.

Roy began to stir as Oliver began pouring the burn wash over the kid's skin. A mournful groan passed through his lips as he sucked in a hiss of pain. "What happened?"

"You feel okay?" Oliver asked when Roy's eyes peeked open. They closed again instantly as he was blinded by the lights overhead.

"I feel like I was hit by a bus." He moved slightly but quickly regretted it. He moaned in pain. "My chest is on fire."

"What all do you remember?" Felicity asked as she swiveled around in her chair to look at him. Relief was clear in her eyes as a happy smile graced her features.

"I remember getting into a fight with your friend," he told Oliver. "She was skilled and she kicked my ass." He frowned as his memories came rushing back. "Then I just remember this burning sensation and this bright flash of light. And... now I'm here." He winced as he began to sit up. Oliver braced the kid's back as he helped him.

"Well, at least your memories are intact," she said with a watery smile. She'd feared the worst as she's watched Oliver and Digg carry Roy into the lair. The respite she felt was so overwhelming that she wanted to cry.

Roy reached up and gingerly touched his chest as he looked down at the large red burn. He hissed in a curse of pain. "This doesn't look like a taser did this."

"That's because it isn't a taser burn." Digg was walking down the stairs of the foundry, arms laden with brown paper bags. A delicious smell was wafting out of one. He'd stopped at Big Belly Burger on the way back. "It's an electrical burn. A taser would have left marks where the prongs caught on the skin."

"What could have caused it?" Felicity asked as Digg deposited the bags on the table that held the different tips to Oliver's trick arrows.

He reached into one bag and pulled out a jar of burn cream. "Not sure, since she was clearly unarmed. The only thing that possibly could have done it is a direct current from the source. Here. Put this on it," he said as he handed the jar over to Roy. "It should ease the pain and prevent blistering."

Roy accepted the jar, his nose catching the scent of the food. "Did you bring me anything?" he asked, motioning with his chin toward the bags with the yellow and red logo on it.

Digg smiled and his broad shoulders visibly relaxed. If Roy was hungry, he knew he was going to be okay. "Salve first. Then food."

The boy complied, gingerly applying the thin cream to his chest. "So, I'm guessing she got away." His gaze shot to Oliver, hoping that his words wouldn't offend their team leader.

That didn't seem to be the case, though. "She did," Oliver nodded with his hands on his hips, a heavy sigh passing through his lips. He was so confused by all of this that he was uncertain what the next step was going to be. And he knew his team would be looking to him to find out where to go from here.

"So, do we know why the meeting was taking place?" Roy screwed the lid back onto the jar of cream and climbed down from the table. Pain was visible on his face, but he wasn't going to complain. After all, he was still alive. That was a win in his book.

"I was just about to find out." Felicity swiveled back around in her chair to face her bank of monitors again. A progress bar was visible on one. "There was an encryption on the flash drive I had to crack. It shouldn't take too much longer for me to get in." Glancing over her shoulder, she motioned to the bags of food. "You didn't happen to pick me up a Big Belly Buster, did you?" she asked Digg, her eyes wide with interest.

He smiled at her before reaching into one of the bags. "Only the best for you, Felicity," he said before depositing the burger in question on the desk in front of her.

She began to peel away the wrapper when a warning popped up on her screens. There was a sound of an alarm as the words 'Critical Error' appeared. Tossing her burger down, she typed away at her keyboard, trying to find the cause for it.

"Oh, frack," she cursed under her breath.

"Felicity, what's going on?" Oliver asked, his large form looming behind her as she continued to type. Nothing seemed to be responding, though.

There was a loud pop and smoke began to billow out of one of the consoles. Sparks began to fly.

"No. No. No!" she cried out as her equipment shorted out in front of her eyes.

A pair of hands grabbed her shoulders and she was pulled from her chair as the computers exploded. But that wasn't all. Since she'd upgraded the system and all the lights and doors where automated by the computers, they too began to short out. The lights above them popped and exploded, showering the room in sparks and glass.

Roy and Digg were yelling as she was being moved underneath the med table, a large form covering hers as more and more sparks rained down from the ceiling. She recognized the scent of the person holding her. It was Oliver.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, flinching as the lights that illuminated the case with his suit and bow shorted out next.

She nodded as she silently followed the trail of the short. It was heading toward the fuse box. It exploded in a beautiful display of pyrotechnics. At least, it would have been if it had been the fourth of July. But, no. Her babies had been lit up like a Christmas tree instead. A whimper of pain escaped her. This was Tockman all over again.

"Are you hurt?" she heard Oliver asking her, his hands glancing over her, but she was in too much shock to neither answer him nor enjoy his ministrations. "Felicity, are you hurt?"

She shook her head, but it was too dark for him to see her. Even the emergency lights had been killed. "I'm fine."

He seemed satisfied with her response, but didn't yet release her. "Roy? Digg?" he called out next.

There was a bit of shuffling behind them; the familiar sound of bodies moving over broken glass. "We're okay," he heard Diggle respond before a soft green light illuminated a small corner of the room. He'd cracked a few of the glow sticks The Arrow sometimes carried with him when his missions took him to dark, underground places.

Satisfied that more things weren't going to explode, Oliver climbed out from underneath the med table, offering a hand to Felicity. She accepted the help, her limbs trembling as he pulled her to her feet. "You sure you're okay?" he asked her, tenderly.

She offered him a hint of a smile before her eyes turned toward the smoldering remains of her babies. "I'm better than they are," she responded with a sad shake of her head.

"What happened?" Roy asked, shaking glass from his hair.

Felicity was angry. All of them could see it when she turned back to face them just so she wouldn't have to look at the carnage behind her. "The drive contained a powerful virus that even my programs couldn't detect. It was able to slip into the system and shut us down." What kind of monster would do something like this, she couldn't help but wonder.

"Can you fix it?" Roy winced as her cold eyes set upon his, her jaw clenched. He was beginning to wish he hadn't asked.

"It's going to take some time," she said after a minute of trying to unclench her jaw. "After the incident with Tockman, I prepared myself for something like this." Her eyes swiveled to Oliver, judgment clear in them. "Do you still think she's the innocent in all of this?"

He winced at her tone. He knew he totally deserved everything she would throw his way, but that was the only barb she sent. He was expecting worse. Much worse. "I'm sorry," was all he could think to say.

She shook her head. "Don't be sorry because that's not going to help us right now. What will help us is you thinking of a plan of what's to come next."

There was the fire he'd first expected to see. It was taking its good sweet time to flicker to life, but he knew it was going to burn for a long while, this time. And Oliver already had a plan in mind. It was one he'd pushed away until it was absolutely necessary. As he glanced around the foundry to the parts he could see in the bright neon glow, he knew now that it was absolutely necessary. "Do you still want to get into her personal files?"

He could see the flames of her anger flickering underneath the length of her eyelashes coupled by a hint of eagerness. "Oh, yeah."

"Good, then that's just what we're going to do. Diggle, you have a pretty good idea of her routine, right?"

Digg nodded. "Yeah, but the only time she lets her laptop out of her sight is during her morning run."

Oliver checked his watch. "That doesn't give us much time. How long before you can have something up and running?" His gaze shifted to Felicity.

She thought about it for a moment. "I can get the comms up and running along with some kind of surveillance in a few hours with some of the extra things I've got laying around. It won't exactly be high-tech, but it should be enough to get you through what it is you need to do."

" _We_ ," he corrected her. "What _we_ need to do. You're coming with me." She opened her mouth to protest, but he silenced her. "I need you in the field to do what you do best. With the system down, we won't be able to do everything we need to do remotely. It has to be in person. Can I count on you?"

She drew in a shaky breath. "No, pressure, right?"

One side of his mouth quirked up in some semblance of a grin. "You'll do great. Now, we'd better get to work."


	9. Chapter Nine

_**Hello, all! I'm back. Sorry for the lack of posting last week, by a close friend of mine lost her mother last Friday, so my week was quite busy.**_

 ** _Now, I just want to say that this chapter was the most fun to write. It being over 5000 words proves that, I think. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it._**

 ** _So... enjoy!_**

 ** _Linny_**

* * *

 **Anything For Love**

 **Chapter Nine**

She paused as she stepped onto the sidewalk outside of her hotel, breathing in the fresh morning air. Starling City was a beautiful place, that was for sure. It reminded her a little bit of River City. It was a small, but thriving metropolis with great shopping, beautiful museums and an art district that featured beautiful works by talented up-and-coming artists.

Just thinking about it made her miss home all the more. But, then she had to remember the reason for her visit to Starling and ice settled back into her chest. She couldn't go home. Not until she'd done what she'd come to do.

Stretching before her run, she eyed the dark sedan parked at the curb across the street. It had been out there almost every morning since she'd arrive in Starling. At first she'd thought nothing of it. It could have just been someone who worked across the street at one of the high class boutiques, for all she knew. But she'd caught glimpses of movement behind the tinted glass of the windows once or twice.

That car made her uneasy.

Letting it go for the moment, she began her run. A good run would clear her head. Last night had been a disaster. She'd never expected things to go so wrong. If the vigilante hadn't interfered, everything would have gone as planned. But, no. He had to stick his little green hood into matters that didn't pertain to him. At least she'd come prepared.

But, Rasputin was going to be pissed and she was going to have to pay the price.

This was not going to end well.

Still, she'd gotten the information she'd asked for. And the location she'd been given was still in Starling. It looked like she was going to remain in town for a bit longer.

Stopping at the end of the block, she turned to check on the sedan. It remained in it's parking space, but there was clearly someone sitting in the driver's seat. It could be one of Rasputin's men, but she didn't think so. Those thugs were stupid enough to try the direct approach and shoot up the place, not watch from afar.

No, she would have to keep her eye on that car. And if it was still there when she returned from her run, she would find out what the person inside wanted.

"We're clear," Digg said over the comm with a sigh of relief. He'd been spotted. He knew she'd seen him.

"Everything okay?" Oliver's voice crackled in his ear. The system Felicity had been able to create was mediocre at best, but at least it was functional.

Glancing around him, he made sure the target had disappeared around the corner before he responded. "I think I've been made. I might need to move vantage points."

"Just hang tight for now. She won't engage you."

"You sure about that? You didn't see the look on her face." It had been a mix between curiosity and anger and Digg wasn't sure he wanted to see her when that anger came out.

"You worried, John?" Oliver managed to tease.

Digg rolled his eyes, but he swallowed thickly. He'd seen what she'd done to Roy. "Just hurry up."

"If what you said about her routine is true, we should have about thirty minutes before she gets back," Felicity said into her comm as she and Oliver rode up the elevator to the twentieth floor. "We're en route to her suite."

"Just remember your cover if you get caught." John's tone was lighthearted as he teased the two of them.

Oliver rolled his eyes at the obvious meaning to Diggle's words. After all, he'd been teasing him about it all morning. "Just let us know if she comes back early," he ground out the words through clenched teeth as he spoke them.

"What do you think he meant by that?" Felicity asked as she fiddled around with her tablet, bringing up a program that would help them break into the suite—luckily, it hadn't been damaged in the chaos. She seemed only slightly curious by the other man's words, but Oliver knew differently. She was trying to hide her reaction from him of what they would have to do if they were caught.

He knew what it would be though if he dared ask her. Because, he felt the same way inside. He just couldn't act on it, despite the fact that he really wanted to.

"You know Digg. Always a character," he shrugged one shoulder in response.

"Hmm," she nodded, but peered at him out of the corner of her eye.

There was a hint of tension that had suddenly formed between them, but neither said a word. They never did when it came to whatever this feeling was. Because, they'd have to be completely ignorant to not feel the electricity sparking between them. But ever since the last shift between them the night before, it was beginning to get harder and harder for the both of them to not say or do anything.

The elevator slowed to a stop on the fifteenth floor and a group of businessmen stepped inside. One pressed the button for the twenty-sixth floor where a high-classed restaurant was housed. Oliver shifted closer to Felicity to give them room. He stilled as he felt her small hand slip into his. Wide eyed, he glanced down at her.

A pretty pink blush dusted her cheeks. She shrugged. "Just trying to keep up appearances," she whispered softly in his ear. The suits were busy talking and wouldn't have overheard them anyway.

He nodded, but continued to look at her; study her, really. He hadn't realized just how close he was to her and to feel her warmth pressed against his was more than a little noticeable. Every point of contact was tingling and he suddenly had the urge to wrap his arms around her and kiss away that sly little smirk that ticked up the corners of her mouth.

He resisted, though. They were on a mission and he needed to stay focused. He drew in a deep breath to calm his reaction to her.

Wow, she smelled good.

The elevator slowed again, finally arriving at their floor. "Excuse us," Oliver murmured to the suits, keeping hold on Felicity's hand as he wove between the nicely-dressed men to make their exit.

It was when they stepped out into the hall that Felicity could finally breathe again. It had become too warm in that tiny metal box and every time she breathed, all she could smell was Oliver. Clean and crisp.

It was sexy as hell.

"This way," he said as he pulled her along after him.

"You can let go of my hand now," she reminded him, though her throat was suddenly dry and her voice cracked. She really didn't want him to let go.

He looked back at her, shooting her a wink. "Just trying to keep up appearances."

A whimper of agony was bubbling up in her throat, but she stopped it before it could emerge. Instead, something... else did. "Of what? An afternoon tryst? Because that's what this looks like. Not to me, of course, because I know us. But if I saw a young, good-looking couple walking hand-in-hand down the hallway of a very nice hotel in the middle of the day, I'd certainly think that... Not that I think you're good-looking... Well, I mean... you are! I just..."

He stopped in his tracks, pulling her off to the side for a moment. "Felicity," Oliver broke through her babble with a frown. God, how he wanted to just kiss her into complete silence. His fingers twitched as they grasped tightly to her slender shoulders. "Focus. We're running out of time." He was saying the words more to himself that he was to her.

Shaking away the errant thoughts—no matter how wonderful they seemed—racing through her mind. An afternoon tryst with Oliver in one of the swankiest hotels she'd ever been in? Yes, please! "Sorry," she blushed.

"And it's seven in the morning. It's not the middle of the day," he added when he began leading her back down the hall again. Thankfully, it was so early that very few of the guests were up and about. They weren't likely to be seen.

"Figure of speech," she muttered under her breath as she fanned herself with her tablet.

Oliver tapped at his comm in his ear with a hint of impatience. While he usually loved it when Felicity went off the rails like that, this wasn't exactly the perfect time. "Roy, how are we looking?" The kid was back at the foundry with Felicity's makeshift setup, keeping a vigilant eye on them as they crept through the halls. He had to hand it to her. In a pinch, she was more than capable of getting the job done. It was nothing spectacular, but it was enough to get the comms up and running again and allow her to hack into the hotel's security cameras.

"Security is doing their rounds a few floors below and they're heading your way. I'd say you've got twenty minutes before they reach you."

"We should only need fifteen," Felicity responded, a little more confident now that her mind was back on the mission and not her and Oliver using one of these rooms as their private sexual playground.

Focus, Felicity!

"I still think this is a bad idea," the youngest member of the team sighed in their ears. "I still think I should have gone."

"You're injured, Roy," Oliver reminded him with a sigh. "You need to heal a bit, first."

"Besides, if you were caught, would you really want to be known as Oliver Queen's mystery lover?" Digg's teasing question brought everything to a standstill for a moment.

"I'm so glad we're all comedians today," Oliver growled, impatient with his team at the moment. "Can we please focus?" He began to lead Felicity down the hallway again, heading toward the stairway at the end. It would lead upstairs to the penthouse suites, but it was locked with an electronic code. They were going to have to break in.

"Hurry," he urged as Felicity pulled a cord out of the pocket of her pink hoodie and attached it to her tablet.

"You don't have to tell me twice," she murmured as she pried off the front plate of the code box and plugged her tablet into it. Oliver kept a lookout as she typed in a sequence of code. Ten seconds later, the door was opened.

He held the door opened for her as she disconnected from the box and replaced the face plate before falling into step behind him as he began climbing the stairs. Now that they were unlikely to be seen by passersby, he didn't bother grabbing for her hand.

Felicity felt a little bereft at the lack of contact.

Oliver reached up to touch his comm. "Roy..."

"The floor is clear. Her suite is across from the west stairway."

He was almost as good as Felicity, Oliver thought to himself before peering over his shoulder at the woman behind him as he stood at the top of the stairs. Almost. No one would ever be able to compare to her.

He pushed through the door and led the way down the hallway. It split in two different directions at the end, which was where he would be posted. "Okay. I'll be right here. Get in and out as fast as you can."

Felicity nodded as a knot suddenly formed in her stomach. "'Kay."

He noticed her apprehension and reached out a gentle hand, squeezing her shoulder. "You'll do fine. I'll come and get you if we get some unexpected company."

"Right." Clutching her tablet to her chest, she took in a deep, calming breath. She turned to go, but her legs suddenly wouldn't move.

It took the encouragement of Oliver's hand pushing lightly at the small of her back to put her into motion again.

The one simple touch fueled her just enough to break through the fear that was racing down her spine. It wasn't like she'd never done any of this before. She'd broken into many other places with Digg and Oliver at her side. But this time, it was different. It was a friend of Oliver's that was their target. A woman he'd called his sister. It felt a bit wrong.

But then she remembered the singed wreckage of her beautiful computer system back at the foundry and any ill feelings washed away.

She didn't let the nagging feeling of guilt get to her again, either. She would worry about the consequences later once she was going over all the info she would get off Isla's laptop.

After last night, things were different. The flash drive had only contained the virus that had destroyed the system. Rasputin and his men weren't clever enough to devise anything like it. So, Isla had planted it on herself in case she and Andrei had been interrupted. Felicity had to give her credit. The woman was smart and well-prepared. She had to wonder what it was that caused her to be that way.

Arriving at the door, she attached a mock keycard to the plug still attached to her tablet and pushed a few buttons before inserting it into the slot. The light turned green and Felicity opened the door.

"I'm in."

"Atta girl," Oliver praised. "Roy? Update."

"Might want to pick up the pace. Security is moving faster than anticipated. They're two floors below you, now."

"No pressure or anything." Felicity glanced around the room as she entered. She was in a small living room with a large couch, coffee table and arm chair taking up the center of the room. A large flat screen TV took up half the width of the one wall adjacent to the wall of windows. A desk lay against the opposite wall. And on it, there was a computer.

Quickly getting to work, Felicity turned on the computer and plugged her tablet into it. She ran a code that would crack the security password and another that would copy all of the files on the hard drive. That was the program that would take the longest. It first had to break through the high-powered encryption and multiple firewalls. This could take longer than she'd first anticipated.

She waited, though, and allowed her gaze to dance around the room as she did. A photograph sat beside the computer. It was of a young couple who were so clearly in love. The woman in it was Isla, obviously, and Felicity recognized the man as her husband from his passport photo. His arms were wrapped around her from behind as she leaned into him, both flashing huge smiles at the camera.

A sudden ache filled her chest. She wanted that. She wanted that so much. And with—despite her best intentions—Oliver.

"Felicity, update."

Boy, he had spectacular timing, didn't he? She could swear he could read her mind at times.

"Fifty percent," she responded, knowing he'd expected more. In her mind's eye, she could picture the hard set of his jaw as he clenched his teeth in frustration. Oliver never liked waiting for anything. Except, maybe for her, she thought begrudgingly.

"Faster," was his growled response in her ear.

That ear and everything attached to it, not to mention everything below it, tingled in response. Ugh! She had it bad. But, if her addiction to Oliver Queen was supposed to be a problem, she didn't see it that way. To her, he was a necessity.

"It could corrupt the program if I try to make it go any faster. You just need to sit tight."

She expected some kind of cold retort to come over the comm, but she was met with silence. She didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Oliver was quiet most of the time, but it was usually his eyes that gave it away whether or not it was a happy or angry silence.

Seventy-five percent now. Just a few more minutes. She glanced nervously at the door. She'd left it propped open in case Oliver needed to extract her quickly. Everything seemed quiet.

Eighty percent. A buzzing sound reached her ears. Glancing around, she caught sight of the cell phone sitting on the bar separating the living room from the kitchen. Having already hacked into the phone at the foundry the night before, Felicity knew everything that was on it. But, there was something that was missing. While reading through her emails and text messages, she'd found that there was no correspondence from or to her husband for at least six weeks.

It was odd, seeing as they looked so in love in their picture. And there were plenty before then. Sometimes multiple a day and neither ever forgot to tell the other that they loved the other. What had happened six weeks ago to make that stop? Her kidnapping theory seemed to make more and more sense the more she thought about it.

Ninety percent. "Almost there."

"Security is starting to head your way through the east stairwell," Roy warned.

Ninety-five percent. Oliver edged into the room, scaring Felicity with a slight touch of her arm. She fought back the urge to scream but looked at him wide-eyed.

Ninety-seven percent. "We've got to go."

"Just a few more minutes. I want to upload a Trojan when this is done. It'll let us track her movements better than it would if I just tried hacking into it from the foundry." Not that she was all that capable of doing that at the moment, she thought sourly.

"No time."

Tough, she thought to herself as the program finally ended, which allowed her to begin typing again. Thirty seconds was all she needed.

Oliver muttered a curse under his breath. "Felicity..."

Oh, hush, she told him with her mind as she ended her code and logged off the laptop. She unplugged her tablet, shoving it inside her hoodie as Oliver tugged her toward the door.

Pausing, he glanced around the door frame, seeing an empty hallway. He could hear the voices of the two security guards getting closer, though. "Hurry," he told her as he pulled her toward the stairway door. He pulled it open just as the two men came around the corner.

Damn. They'd been spotted, he thought as the door closed noisily behind them. He froze, listening to the voices on the other side. They were headed their way.

"They'll see us if we try to run," he told her as he furiously fought for a solution. As the Arrow, the solution would be obvious, but he was here as Oliver Queen with his former Executive Assistant at his side. There wasn't much the two of them could do.

"So, what are we going to do?" She whispered to him as if the two guards could hear her through the wall.

The stairwell door came open and an idea finally came to Oliver. It was a bad idea, but it was all he could think of. "Play along," he murmured to her as he pressed her against the wall, his large hands settled upon her waist.

"With what?" she asked, her eyes going wide in surprise.

She found out exactly what that what was when his lips came crashing down upon hers.

In complete shock, Felicity wasn't sure what to do. Eyes wide, she gasped as his body settled firmly against hers. She was suddenly too hot as he practically surrounded her, but—despite that—she didn't want this contact to end.

His hands were gentle as they slid up from her hips. They traveled lazily up her sides, the tips of his fingers just barely brushing against the swells of her breasts. His lips had been gentle at first, but had quickly turned demanding as he absorbed her taste.

She whimpered slightly and her body arched against him of its own accord.

She didn't realize when her eyes had fluttered closed. All she knew was Oliver. His smell. His taste. His touch. It was what she had been dreaming of for two very long years and it would be almost perfect if they weren't in a stairway of a hotel, trying to hide from security. Still, she wanted more.

And he obviously did, too. Because, now it was no longer an act. She felt the change in Oliver as soon as he stopped holding back and gave into sensation.

That was when she did the same. Tilting her head slightly, she allowed him to tease her with the slightest touch of his tongue brushing against the seam of her lips like it was begging for entrance. She didn't give it immediately. She allowed herself the chance to explore him a bit as he'd done with her.

Her hands started to move. One traveled up the length of his stomach and chest, the tips of her fingers dancing over the ridges of his abs that were hidden underneath his dark blue Henley sweater. She felt the muscles contract slightly under her touch and she couldn't help but feel a sense of feminine pride that she had just as much of an effect on him as he did on her. It was a bit empowering to know that she could bring Oliver Queen to his knees with just her kiss.

Her right hand continued to move up, cupping the elbow of the hand that was cradling her chin, the thumb rubbing the skin of her cheek in tight, hot circles that caused a chill of excitement to race down her spine.

Her left hand traced its way up the same path of his body, but continuing where its twin had stopped. It found its way into his hair, the nails scraping against his scalp, hoping to elicit some kind of response out of him.

He growled against her mouth as his hips pressed into hers. She gasped in a breath of absolute need and he took the opening she'd given him. His tongue dipped inside, brushing lightly against hers. She moaned into him, her arms snaking around his neck, eager to pull him closer. She sighed in contentment as her breasts were firmly pressed against the hardness of his chest. The tablet pressed in between their stomachs was inconsequential except for the fact that it was separating them.

Could she want this man anymore than she did at this moment? She didn't think so. Her body was an inferno of need and sensation and she knew if it wasn't treated properly, she would combust.

"Oliver," she whispered against the heat of his mouth.

He didn't respond with words as his hands trailed down her back. One settled on her hip as the other trailed lower to cup the swell of her behind. The large hand squeezed gently and released. His muscles quivered as he bent slightly. She knew what he was going to do and all she could do was inwardly cheer because his teeth were scoring the plump flesh of her bottom lip, taking away all the breath she held in her chest.

He was going to lift her up, perch her against the wall, and give himself better access to her waiting mouth. But the movement never came. In fact, he was beginning to pull away.

No!

Then she heard it. There were two voices piercing into the blissful haze she'd been surrounded with. No! She didn't want this to end. She didn't want to open her eyes and find out this had all been a dream.

"Sir? Miss?" The voice seemed uncomfortable, as if he wasn't sure how to approach the couple in such a heated embrace. He should feel embarrassed, Felicity thought with a mental scowl. He cleared his throat to try to gain their attention, but it was also to convey just how awkward this was.

Oliver's lips slipped from hers as he pulled away. Felicity gave a whimper of protest as she savored every last touch. She felt bereft when the contact was finally broken. She knew she should be embarrassed for being caught in such a situation, but she was too thoroughly kissed to think about anything else.

"Problem, gentlemen?" Oliver's question was firm and direct, but there was a hoarseness to his tone. As she'd suspected, he'd been just as affected by what just happened as she had. And if she had any doubt of the matter, the way his eyes had bloomed to the point that his eyes were devoid of any of the dazzling blue color they usually held made her think otherwise.

She would have to file all of it away to reflect on later, because all she wanted to do at the moment was laugh. She could feel her shoulders start to shake as she was being overcome by the giggles that would surely make the two large guards suspicious. She did the only thing she could think of in this situation. She buried her face in Oliver's neck, using him as a shield.

He didn't seem to mind. In fact, he wrapped his arm around her waist and held her close as if he was savoring her touch.

"We're going to have to ask you to move along. This isn't exactly the place for... erm... what you were doing."

His eyes flickered down to Felicity's as they peered up at him from his neck. She was still laughing and he had to fight the urge to do so as well. "Of course. But, you know how things can get in the heat of the moment. We're newlyweds," he shrugged as if that was all the answer he needed to give.

He felt more than heard Felicity's gasp of surprise. Glancing down he shot her a wink, but she could see the hint of manly pride dancing in his eyes.

Her cheeks heated, but it wasn't with embarrassment. No. She wanted to finish what they'd started and that fact was clear on her face.

And—damn him—Oliver wanted to finish it too.

The guard who'd interrupted them shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Understandable, sir. But, this _is_ a hotel. We have plenty of rooms for you and your... wife."

Oliver noticed the way the man glanced down at his hand, looking for a wedding ring. He quickly hid it in Felicity's hair to hide the fact that he wasn't wearing one.

"Right. Well, if we promise to keep it behind closed doors, are we free to go?" They really needed to get moving as their window of escape was quickly shrinking. Isla would be back in a matter of minutes.

The guard studied them for a moment before looking to his silent partner. The man had steely blue eyes that seemed to be sparkling with humor and blond hair that had been buzzed short. He'd obviously been a military man at one point in his life.

"Oliver, you need to get out of there," came Diggle's warning in his ear.

He was trying to.

"Fine," the brown-haired guard said, finally. "Just don't let us catch you in here again."

Oliver smiled that fake million-watt smile he used to use on his board when he was still CEO of Queen Consolidated. "Of course. Thank you, gentlemen. Let's go, baby," he said to Felicity as he took hold of her hand and dragged her down the rest of the stairs. He heard the two guards chuckling when they were in the safety of the lower floor and the door was about to close behind them.

"That was close," she told him, her eyes looking up at him in speculation.

God, how he wanted to kiss that expression off of her face. He knew they needed to talk, but at the moment, there were more pressing matters. "It's not over yet. Let's go."

He tugged her toward the elevator bank in the middle of the hall, but the thought of being cramped inside a tiny box with Felicity after what had just happened upstairs wasn't the best of ideas. At the last moment, he moved them toward the stairs. He paused momentarily as he thought of how ironic it was.

They'd just shared the most incredible kiss of their lives with each other and he was trying to run from it by escaping through another stairwell. Not one of his better ideas.

"We're good, Oliver," she told him, surprising him.

His eyes shot up to meet hers, finding the wall she'd been able to erect to keep him out. Again, she was being the incredible person he knew she could be and giving him an out. But, this time, he wasn't sure that he wanted it.

The warm gentleness of her hand settled over his. A chill ran down his spine as he remembered the way those fingers had danced their way up his stomach. That touch, so confident and assured as they trailed over his body. He could only imagine what they would feel like if she'd dared let them travel to more daring places.

He inwardly cursed and tried to not think about all the ways her touch could set his soul on fire. That was not the path his thoughts needed to be traveling on at the moment.

"Let's go," she urged, pushing open the stairwell door and waiting for him to lead the way.

"You and I need to have a talk."

She offered him a smile that didn't reach all the way up to her eyes. He wanted to question it, but she wouldn't let him. "Later," she told him with a note of finality.

He accepted it before beginning the long trek down twenty floors of stairs. He was thankful for the distraction it caused, because it helped to get his errant emotions under control. When was the last time a woman had affected him this much? He couldn't remember if it had ever happened, really. In his younger days, he'd always been a love-'em-and-leave-'em kind of guy. He'd been a complete jerk to the women he'd slept with and the only one he'd been with for a significant amount of time had been Laurel. And he'd scorned her most of all.

But even with Laurel, he had never felt this way. With Felicity, it was different. She was different. She brought out something inside of him that he didn't recognize. She made him feel almost happy. He liked that feeling.

"Isla's on her way inside, Oliver," Diggle warned again, breaking through his thoughts.

Oliver didn't even realize how lost in thought he had been until his friend had spoken. He was surprised to discover that they'd arrived in the lobby. Peering out of the stairwell, he caught sight of Isla as the concierge called her over to the counter.

"What's going on?" Felicity asked as she peered around him, her breathing shallow from running down the stairs.

Like it had been right after he'd kissed her.

Oliver mentally kicked himself to pay attention as he witnessed the man behind the counter hand Isla a white envelope. She frowned at it, but offered a kind smile of thanks.

His eyes closely followed her as she made her way to the elevator. She was glancing nervously over her shoulder, checking to see if she was being watched. Oliver shrunk back slightly, even though he and Felicity were pretty well hidden from view. Still, something told him she'd been looking for someone else.

She was ripping open the envelope when the elevator arrived. A few people stepped off and Isla was the only one to step on. By then, as she pushed the button for her floor, she had the envelope torn open and its contents in her hand. It was a single sheet of paper and whatever was written on it made her eyes turn ice cold.

Reaching up, Olive pressed at his comm. "I think it's time for the Arrow to pay my old friend a visit."


	10. Chapter Ten

_**Hello, all! I'm back again after a much-needed break. So, what did everyone think of the premier? If you've seen it, who do you think the tombstone belongs to? Personally, my money is on either Diggle or Captain Lance. And speaking of Lance, what do you think about his little twist? I can't wait to see what happens!**_

 _ **Anyway, back to the story. It's time for Oliver to confront Isla.**_

 _ **:) Linny**_

* * *

 **Anything For Love**

 **Chapter Ten**

Starling City was alive at night. There was a nightclub down at the other end of the block from her hotel that was no doubt crowded with hot, sweaty bodies. Spotlights shot into the sky, illuminating the area; the bright beams dancing to the heavy beat of the music that filtered in through her opened balcony door.

She paid little mind to it, though, as she sat in the main room of her dark and silent hotel suite. Her hands were busy with the crystal glass she was rolling between her fingers, while her gaze was solely focused on the piece of paper resting on the coffee table.

There was nothing special about it. It was common paper stock sold in every stationary and electronics store across the country and the words on it had been printed from a computer. There was no way to trace it back to its origin. But, she didn't need to. She already knew who it was from. A ghost. A phantom hiding in the shadows; toying with her life and her emotions and forcing her to do things...

Monstrous things.

She downed her drink in one large gulp and got up from the couch. Moving on unsteady legs, she made her way to the bar that adjoined the kitchen. A half-empty bottle sat opened on the counter. She poured herself another and downed that one as well before pouring some more. She didn't even feel the burning warmth of the bourbon anymore. A few more and she wouldn't feel much of anything.

She _did_ feel his presence before she saw him, though, but didn't move to react. She just continued to pour her drink. She'd been expecting a visit from him, so it came as no surprise.

She heard the creaking of his leather suit and the string of his bow being drawn back as he nocked an arrow and aimed it at her. "Isla Stewart," he growled, his voice being altered electronically again.

"I was wondering when I was going to see you again," she mumbled with the glass halfway to her lips. She turned as the warm liquid washed over her tongue and ran down her throat. She was going to need another dose of liquid courage if they were going to do this.

He continued his stance, his blue eyes cold as he stared into her blurry brown ones. She wasn't afraid of him. Whether he believed it or not, there were worse things... worse people... in this world than some vigilante with a bow and arrow. She would know.

"You have failed this city."

She smirked at him as she took another sip from her glass. "Oh, I've failed more than that, honey." Rolling her eyes, she let his gaze follow her as she walked around the back of the couch and took a seat. "You can put that away," she motioned to his weapon. "I'm no threat to you." Not when she was looking to get shit-faced. Now, she was only a threat to herself, her equilibrium, and her liver.

The Arrow studied her as she walked unsteadily around the main room. She'd obviously been at this for a while, judging by the remaining volume in the liquor bottle.

She arched an eyebrow in question. "What's wrong? You mad since I blew up your entire operation?" The liquor was obviously going to her head if she was mocking him. But, it was also making her more willing to talk. He could use this to his advantage, he decided as he finally lowered his bow and placed the arrow back into his quiver. "You know, I knew that virus would come in handy one day. Did you honestly think I wouldn't be prepared when I went to meet Rasputin?" She scoffed a laugh, sipping again from her glass. "You taught me better than that, Oliver."

He'd begun to take a few steps closer to her, but he froze as she drained the rest of her glass.

"What? Did you think I wouldn't figure it out just because we haven't seen each other in a few years? I might not remember a few things from my time in Russia, but I remember you. What you were able to do. What you had to do. You're the one who taught me how to fight." Tears suddenly flooded her eyes and she hastily reached up to wipe them away.

Turning off the voice modulator, Oliver lowered his hood and removed his mask, but he didn't move from his spot in front of the balcony door. He needed to keep his distance from her. This wasn't the Isla he knew. This was someone completely different. She was a stranger. "I never taught you the things I saw you do in the alley the other night."

She continued to roll the empty glass between her fingers, watching as the lights from outside caught on the crystal etchings, making it sparkle in her hold. "No. You're right. You didn't." Glancing up, she searched for the bottle of bourbon. She'd left it on the bar, though.

Oliver crossed the room as he watched her try to get up from her seat, but her limbs just wouldn't cooperate. Taking the glass from her, he set it on the coffee table where he'd perched himself. She whimpered in protest when he took the glass and set it out of her reach. "I think it's time you sobered up." There was a note of warning in his tone.

"Who are you now? My father?" she scowled at him.

"No. Just a friend who cares about you. Talk to me, Isla. I can help you."

She blinked drunkenly at him as she fought to bring him into focus. But he remained fuzzy and it took her a little too long to realize that she'd begun to cry. "You have no idea how much I want to believe that," she whimpered, her shoulders shaking with a silent sob.

He reached out to take hold of her hand, giving it a squeeze of comfort that she wished she could accept. She just didn't deserve it. "Then, talk to me. I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"Your Miss Smoak didn't find what she was looking for?" She watched him freeze again as she mentioned the pretty blond. His eyes turned ice cold and his grip upon her hand tightened slightly. Pulling free from his grasp, she leveled her gaze at him. "Did you think I wouldn't realize that you hacked into my personal laptop, Oliver? I am the CEO of a tech company. I'm not exactly naïve when it comes to computer hacking." He didn't say anything in response and she should have known better than to keep talking, but the booze had taken hold and her mouth was no longer under her own control. "She's good, I'll give her that."

"You leave her out of this," he growled at her.

"Right. So, you you have every right to pry into my personal life, but I can't pry into yours? That's not exactly fair." She chuckled as he clenched and unclenched his jaw, fighting back the angry retort that she knew was on his lips. "Oh, relax, would you? I'm only teasing." Whatever it took to take her mind off of her own misery, she told herself.

"This isn't about me."

She rolled her eyes at him again as she pushed off from the couch. She was finally successful in getting to her feet and she carefully moved toward the kitchen. "Fine. Felicity Smoak is off the table," she said, holding her hands up in defeat, but quickly lowering them as she stumbled toward the fridge. Reaching inside, she pulled out a bottle of water and twisted open the cap. She mockingly waved it in front of her to show him she hadn't gone for the bourbon, not matter how much she'd wanted to. "I hope you told her how much she means to you." Her tone had turned sad as she returned to the couch, downing a few pills to ease the hangover she would have in the morning.

"Again, this isn't about me."

She shook her head, but instantly regretted it as a wave of nausea washed over her. She'd definitely had too much to drink. Willing the room to stop spinning, she rubbed at her temples and took in a few deep breaths. "Don't take her for granted, Oliver. Because, one day, she just might not be there anymore."

"Is that what happened to your husband?" he asked, finally, gauging her reaction to his question. She seemed to retreat into herself, her eyes vacant as she went completely numb in front of his eyes. "I know he isn't in Europe like everyone thinks. And I know the last time he was seen was six weeks ago. Tell me what happened, Isla."

She clenched the water bottle she now cradled in her hands, her eyes darting to the sheet of paper still on the coffee table. Oliver followed her gaze, picking up the object in question and reading it. There was only one line of text on it. It didn't make much sense to him.

 **The clock is ticking.**

"I don't understand."

She drew in a shaky breath, letting it go slowly. "Six weeks ago, Rick and I were leaving the apartment to go to work when three men pulled up in this big SUV. They had guns. They shot our driver and they took Rick."

"Why?" he urged, watching as her numb expression shifted to one of fear. She shook her head as if she didn't want to answer. "Why, Isla? Did they want money? Something he'd invented?"

"No. They didn't want _him_ for anything. They just took him for leverage."

"Leverage against what?"

She blinked rapidly, fighting back against her tears again. One slipped through her defenses, though, streaking down her cheek. "Me."

Oliver was confused. What was it about her they wanted? "I...don't understand."

Her gaze shifted uncomfortably, settling on everything but him. "Tell your friend that I'm sorry that I hurt him."

He frowned at her. "Don't change the subject."

She shook her head. "I'm not. I just want him to know that I didn't mean to hurt him. I was just trying to defend myself."

Giving into his curiosity, Oliver's frown increased as he watched her get up again and began to pace the room. "How did you do that, anyway? Rasputin's men checked to see if you had any weapons. And his burns weren't exactly consistent with those of a taser."

She picked nervously at her fingernails as she fought an internal war with herself. "I can't tell you that," she finally said after a minute.

"Isla..."

"Oliver, it's not that I don't want to. It's that I can't. I don't know _how_ I did it, all I know is that I did." It wasn't a complete lie. She didn't know how. But she did know why.

He shook his head, confusion clear on his face. "That doesn't make any sense."

She wrapped her arms around herself as a chill ran down her spine. "I know... but, it's difficult to explain. And if I did explain, I don't think you'd ever look at me the same."

"How can you say that, you are like a sister to me."

"Was," she corrected. "I _was_ like a sister to you, but I'm not that same girl, Oliver. I've changed."

They both fell silent as he tried to wrap his mind around what she was trying to say. He could see that she'd changed. So had he. He was a different man than he'd been when he'd first begun his crusade in Starling. He'd been colder then; harder. He'd been a killer. But that had all changed. He'd realized that he hadn't needed to kill to fulfill his father's wish of him saving the city. And it helped that he had a team of the best people he could ever think to have at his side. They were what kept him on his path and even offered a helping hand or word of encouragement when he needed it most.

"Okay, then try," he urged after a moment. He was offering Isla a helping hand. He just hoped that she would accept it.

"Okay," she nodded as she considered her words for a moment. "The reason they took Rick... is because they want me to do something for them."

Oliver arched a single eyebrow, the expression on his face clear that he wanted her to continue. "And?" he asked, impatiently. "What is that?"

"They... want me to kill someone."

He froze as he let those words sink in. Kill someone? Isla wasn't capable of killing, why would anyone think she could? "What?"

She nodded, avoiding his gaze completely now as she ran a hand haphazardly through her hair. It hung around her shoulders in a mess of unruly waves, now. "Yeah."

"Why would they think you could kill someone?"

"Because I have before," she confessed.

Rising to his feet, he shook his head vehemently. "No, I don't believe that! You didn't even want to learn how to hold a gun let alone use one. You're _not_ a killer." He knew killers. Hell, he had been a killer. Isla was the farthest thing from a killer.

"You can deny it all you want, but it's the truth." Her voice had turned into a sad whisper. It was a sound that mad Oliver's heart clench with sorrow. "During those six months before I resurfaced, I did quite a few things that I'm not proud of. Include kill. But, I didn't exactly use a gun." She was staring down at her hands now, almost glaring at them as if they were the source of her entire problem.

"Who did you... you..." he couldn't even say the word, now.

She shrugged. "Whoever I was told to. Low-level mobsters, mostly, probably. To get their point across."

"Whose point?"

"The doctor's that took my memory. The ones who did this to me."

He was ready to ask what they did to her, but then he saw. Sparks of electricity were dancing off of the tips of her fingers as she continued to glare at her hands. The lights in the room flickered on and off a few times as the current she emitted rushed through their wiring. A bulb from one of the lamps near the couch exploded in a shower of sparks.

"My God! Isla..."

Tears were now freely streaming down her cheeks as her gaze reconnected with his. She didn't fight them. She embraced them as the only source of emotion she could feel at the moment. The rest of her had gone completely numb and it was brought on by the look of disgust that he wore on his face. "See?" she asked as she clenched her hand into a fist, urging the current back to wherever it lay dormant within her body. "I told you that you wouldn't be able to look at me the same way again." Solemnly, she walked over to the bar and grabbed for the bottle of bourbon. Screw the hangover she would have in the morning. She needed to drown her sorrows tonight.

"Wait," he protested while reaching out for her.

She whirled on him and he jumped back in shock. It was what she'd expected him to do. "Just leave me alone, Oliver," she told him as she stormed by him, heading toward her bedroom and slamming the door.


	11. Chapter Eleven

_**Hello, again! Flashback in** italics **.**_

 _ **Enjoy!**_

 ** _:) Linny_**

* * *

 **Anything For Love**

 **Chapter Eleven**

 _River City_

 _Six weeks ago..._

 _She was humming to herself as she finished getting dressed. Putting on the last of her makeup, she eyed herself in her vanity mirror. There was a content little smile quirking up the sides of her mouth and a healthy glow of satisfaction coloring her cheek_ s. _And while the morning's activities did have something to do with it, she knew it was so much more than that._

 _She was happy. More so than she'd ever been in her entire life. And she knew it had everything to do with the man impatiently pacing the living room as he waited for her to finish her morning routine. Sure, he had money and influence considering he'd been raised with a silver spoon in his mouth, but that had never mattered to her._

 _All that mattered was Rick. He loved her. He protected her. He saved her. And she knew she would probably never be able to repay him for everything he'd done for her._

" _The car's here," he told her, peeking his head through the cracked-open door of the bedroom. His expression shifted from slight irritation to worry as he looked at her. "What's wrong?"_

 _Confused by the question, she frowned at him as he entered the room. His cell phone was in his hand, but he'd slipped it into the inside pocket of his suit jacket before crouching down in front of her. The warmth of his palm cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear she hadn't even realized she'd shed._

 _Shaking her head, she hastily wiped at the remnants the streak had left behind and sent a quiet 'thank you' to the person who'd invented waterproof mascara. "I'm fine," she told him as she reached for her purse and cellphone. She was about to stand up when she realized he hadn't moved. She offered him a watery smile, trying to hold back the rest of the tears brimming on the edges of her lashes that she had quickly become aware of. "Really. These are happy tears."_

 _His expression was skeptical. "You're sure?" She was usually so good at keeping her emotions in check that it was a whole different world when he was allowed to see them. There was a part of him that wished he knew what it was that kept her so standoffish at times, but then there was another part—a much bigger and scared part—that never wanted to know. It was just a part of Isla that made her the way she was._

 _Still, there were twenty-eight other years of her life that had come before him. And he knew not all of them were happy ones. He would never pressure her into telling him about them either. She would tell him in her own time, he was sure. Until then, he would stand by her side as her stoic protector for when the nightmares would come. And they would come. They always did._

 _She nodded as she took his hand, folding her fingers around his. "I know I probably haven't said it much lately, but I am happy. You make me so happy."_

 _He tenderly kissed her forehead, his own eyes clouding with a sheen of tears. "I feel the same way." Resting his forehead against her own, he took a moment to calm his own emotions and just enjoy the feel of her beside him. "I love you."_

" _I love you too," she murmured, brushing her lips against his in a tender kiss. "But, we probably should get going."_

 _And just like that, the tender moment was over. Her usual mask of indifference—which always seemed to be counterbalanced by an unlikely quirky attitude she didn't usually show—was back in place. She was his Isla again and he knew it was best not to linger on what had just happened._

 _Pulling himself to his full height, he offered a hand to help her to her feet. "Right."_

 _She accepted it, slinging her purse over her shoulder. "You have all your notes for today's meeting?" She asked, getting her mind back in the place where it always was these days._

 _He smirked, loving the way she cared so much for his family's company. She wanted it to succeed just as much as he did. "Yup," he patted the pocket that held his cellphone._

" _Good. And you know Rebecca in IT is due to go on maternity leave soon," she reminded him as she exited the bedroom._

" _Already?" he asked as he picked up his briefcase from the couch and checked to make sure he had his wallet. "We should throw her a baby shower."_

 _A smile broke into her concentration as they got into the elevator. "Only you would think of something like that."_

 _He shrugged before passing the keycard over the scanner and pushed the button for the lobby, sending the car into movement. "What can I say? I like babies."_

 _Oh, she could fall in love with him all over again when he said things like that. She continued to smile. "And it just so happens that one is already in the planning stages. I thought we could purchase something nice for her and her husband."_

 _He nodded. "Sounds good." God, how had he survived running his company without her for so long? Not only did she care about keeping it afloat, but she truly cared for everyone they employed. She treated everyone like family. When they'd married two years ago, the offices had been cold. He was the boss and they were his dispensable workers. Isla had brought a warmth into his life he had never realized he'd been missing. And that was why he'd never wanted to lose it. They'd only known each other a few months when he'd asked her to marry him._

 _For so long, she'd told him that he had saved her, but he saw things the other way around. She'd saved him as well. Saved him from becoming like any other cold and heartless CEO. Saved him from becoming just like his father had been before he'd died. The doctor's had said that it was a heart-attack, but Rick knew better. The man had been cold and bitter; greedy._

 _He'd always told himself while growing up that he would never turn out that way, but until he'd met Isla, that was exactly the direction he'd been heading in. She didn't realize just how much she'd saved him._

" _Anyway, I've been sending feelers out, looking for a temporary replacement for Rebecca and I heard about this young woman in Starling City."_

" _That's three-thousand miles away. You don't think we can find someone more local? River City is quickly becoming a technical capital in the country, you know."_

" _Thanks to StewartTech," she reminded him. "But, you're trying to distract me. I've heard great things about her. She's truly a force to be reckoned with and I think she would be an asset to the company."_

" _Why do I think there's more to this than you're not telling me?"_

" _There really isn't," she reassured him. "It just so happens that she is currently out of work and if we don't hurry, she might get snatched up by the competition."_

 _He knew better than to argue with her when she got this way. She was practically an expert when it came to the business side of the company, which is why their partnership was so perfect. She ran the day-to-day operations while he oversaw the technical aspect of it all. It was a scenario where everyone won. "Okay, then. Set up a meeting."_

" _I'm already working on that. I called Joanna at our Starling office and she told me she would handle everything."_

 _But he knew that wouldn't be enough for his wife. "And of course, you want to go, don't you?"_

 _She shrugged as the elevator pinged when it stopped in the lobby. "You know me so well. While I trust Joanna's judgment explicitly, I'd like to see for myself."_

 _A sigh passed through his lips as he shook his head. "You know, this wasn't what I'd meant when I said we could use a vacation."_

" _And I told you, a vacation isn't practical right now," she countered. "Not until the company goes public."_

 _He rolled his eyes at her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "What am I going to do with you?"_

" _Marry me," was her tease of a response. She'd obviously won her argument and would most likely be in Starling by the week's end._

" _Done it," he reminded her as he placed a tender kiss on her temple. There was nothing more to say after that. They just approached the car in a companionable silence as the driver held the door open for them._

 _They heard the arrival of the other car too late. The loud squeal of tires was deafening as the black SUV pulled up outside of the complex. A single shot rand out and their driver went down. On instinct, Rick and Isla fell to the ground behind the open door of their towncar. Three men all dressed in black, wearing black ski masks over their faces, climbed out of the SUV. Large guns drawn, they circled the car, searching for their target._

 _Two more shots rang out toward a few passersby, but the shots went wild. They fled in the other direction, looking for a safe place to hide._

 _Isla felt herself freeze in place as Rick shielded her body with his own. Her eyes were wide as she stared at the motionless form of their driver and personal guard, Joe. Blood was oozing from his wound out onto the pavement, but she couldn't tell where he'd been hit._

 _Was he still alive, she wondered as she heard the heavy footsteps of the three men approaching. Rick's hold on her tightened as his body tensed._

" _Stay down," he whispered into her hair._

 _She whimpered in protest, but couldn't move if she tried. It wasn't because of Rick's large form, either. Her mind was flashing back to places and situations she never wanted to experience ever again. But, here she was. Being held at gunpoint yet again. As if the first time hadn't been bad enough._

 _God, her head was pounding!_

" _Grab him," one of the three goons murmured as he kept a lookout. His cold brown eyes were scanning the area to see if anyone would try to stop them. None of the bystanders who'd been near the building attempted anything, but there was a police siren in the distance. They would arrive soon. But, they would be too late._

 _Isla felt Rick being pulled away from her and to his feet. "No!" she protested loudly and began to get up too. They couldn't take him! She wouldn't let them._

" _Stay down," her husband shouted at her, dread filling his eyes at what these people might do to her._

" _Rick..." She wouldn't listen. She tried to get up again, until a gun was thrust in her face._

" _No! Don't hurt her!" Rick fought against the two men holding him, each with one arm wrapped around his and their guns pointed in different directions. "Please!" he begged. "Do whatever you want to me, but please don't hurt my wife."_

 _Tears burned the backs of her eyes as she listened to her husband beg. In all the time she'd known him, she'd never known him to beg. She tentatively reached up to rub at the pain shooting through her temple. "Rick..."_

" _Leave her," the obvious leader for the three finally said. "She's not the one we came for." Motioning with his gun, the other two began dragging Rick away to the SUV, leaving the head honcho to aim his weapon at her._

 _Despite the gun barrel staring her in the face, she tried to get to her feet again. She heard the safety click off the gun, but she didn't care. Her fear had been replaced with something dark and angry that she'd thought she'd buried a long time ago. The pain in her head was proof enough that it had only gone into hibernation and was now quickly coming back to life._

 _The pain shot through her head once again and the world seemed to tilt upon its axis as things seemed to happen in quick succession._

 _The sound of gunfire._

 _Rick's screams of protest._

 _A scream of pain._

 _The familiar buzzing sound of electricity in Isla's ears as her whole world went black._

She woke up with a start, a scream escaping her lips as she jolted up in her bed. Her eyes searched frantically around the room, but it was still dark enough that the shadows completely blended in with the rest of the room. Something touched her arm and she jumped in surprise.

"Hey, hey... it's okay," Oliver's soft voice permeated her panic from the side of the bed by the window.

Eyes darting in that direction, she was surprised to see him there, no longer dressed in his hood, but in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. "What? Why are you still here?"

He shrugged, leaning back in the armchair he'd been dozing off in as he'd sat at her bedside. He frowned when he looked at the clock. She'd only been asleep for a few hours. "I figured you could use a friend after tonight."

She was confused. Even after everything she'd told him, he'd stayed? "I'm a killer, Oliver," she reminded him. She was also a freak of nature.

He shook his head. "No. Isla Addams was a killer. You're Isla Stewart; CEO of a future Fortune 500 company and wife to a man who you love more than life itself." She wouldn't even be considering anything like what they wanted her to do if she didn't. "You are _not_ a killer."

"But, they'll kill Rick if I don't help them." She wanted to cry when his warm fingers wrapped around her cold as ice ones.

"I won't let that happen. Me and my team will help in any way that we can. You just have to trust us."

"I don't want to put you in the middle of this."

"I put myself in the middle of this when I gave you my food rations five years ago," he reminded her. She graced him with a small smile at the memory. "Your problems are my problems." His gaze studied her, silently asking if she understood. He was pleased when she nodded in agreement, noting the way some of the tension melted off her shoulders.

"Okay," she accepted. "Where do we start?"

She began to get out of bed, but Oliver pushed the blankets back over her. "First, you need to get a few more hours asleep. You're still a little boozed up and we need you at your best."

"But..." she began to protest.

The look he shot her way, left little room for argument. "No. Sleep. I'll be right here if you need me."

She nodded, hunkering back down under the sheets. She lay there for a moment in silence, staring up at the ceiling before a smile crossed her lips. "Do you know what this reminds me of?"

"What?" he asked, softly.

"This reminds me of when you and Anatoly rescued me and you stayed by my bedside for an entire week."

He smiled in return. "I remember."

"You said you would always be there to protect me," she reminded him as she rolled over to her side, gazing at his silhouetted form in front of the window.

He nodded solemnly, obviously thinking about the one time he'd broken that promise. "I intend to keep that promise this time." The commitment was clear in his tone. He would do whatever it took to protect her. He would do whatever it took to not fail her ever again.


	12. Chapter Twelve

_**Hello, everyone! Sorry for the delay, but I've been suffering from this horrible cold-slash-sinus infection-slash-big ol' ball of ick for the last two weeks. :( The last few episodes have been the only things to get me through it. This last episode was wonderful, too! The scenes between Lance and Oliver were some of my favorite in the history of the show. Absolutely fantastic. What about you?**_

 _ **Enjoy!**_

 _ **:) Linny**_

* * *

 **Anything For Love**

 **Chapter Twelve**

"How are things going with the system?" Oliver was whispering as he moved about the living room, even though the bedroom door was firmly closed. He didn't want to be too loud because he knew Isla was going to wake up with one hell of a hangover.

"Well, while you were playing doctor last night, I was able to get back into the SCPD's database. Felicity's tone was filled with derision and sounded a bit accusatory. In fact, she sounded kind of jealous.

Oliver decided it was better to table the strange feeling he suddenly got at that idea. It was practically...giddy. "Now's not the time, Felicity." While he could understand her dislike of Isla, he really wasn't in the mood to be in the middle of it.

She made a grumbling noise over the phone and he could hear her fingers flying over the keys of her keyboard. "I got an alert early this morning," she continued as if he hadn't interrupted. "Officers were en route to a possible murder scene."

Intrigued, Oliver listened intently as he moved quietly around to the room service cart. He poured himself another cup of coffee and checked the time. Seven-thirty. Isla should be getting up soon, but with the amount that she drank, he wouldn't be surprised if she slept until noon.

"Rasputin and his men... they're dead."

"How?" he asked, his eyes darting toward the bedroom door. He could hear movement coming from behind it. He could hardly believe it.

"They were all electrocuted _somehow."_

Her tone had turned a bit cynical and it took a moment for it to finally dawn on him what she was implying. "Don't, Felicity," he warned.

"SCPD reported that there was no possible way it could have been because of anything in that restaurant. Al electrical lines were completely intact," she continued to press, which was beginning to make him angry.

"It wasn't her. She was here all night."

"You told us she said she'd killed before; that she was here to kill someone else," she reminded him.

"Yeah, and so have I," he countered with a bit more venom to his tone than he liked using with her. "I was a killer too, remember? But, I'm not anymore. And neither is she. I promised her that we would help her and I intend to keep that promise. Understand?"

Seemingly properly chastised, Felicity complied, but of course that didn't mean she wasn't going to do it quietly. "Fine. But, what are you going to do when you find out you can't?"

There was a retort ready on his lips, but she'd hung up on him before he could speak. Cursing under his breath, he gripped the phone so tightly that he could hear the plastic creaking in his hand. Damn her for being so opinionated. But, of course, that was one of the things he loved most about her, wasn't it? The fact that she didn't pull her punches with him was what had impressed him most about her. But, he wasn't going to lie when he said that it pissed him off to no end when she fought against him like this.

"Everything okay?" Isla's tentative voice permeated the fog of his aggravation, causing him to look up at her. She looked a but pale with dark circles under her eyes. The sun was pouring in from the wall of windows and she was forced to squint her eyes in pain.

He thought about it for a moment. He could tell her the truth; that things had been strained between he and Felicity lately. It was mostly because of Isla and her destruction of their computer system, but he knew it probably also had to do with the fact that they still hadn't had their talk about what had happened in the hotel stairway. And he so wanted to have that talk with her. But not when she was acting this way. For now, he would give her some time to blow off steam. It was usually what she needed in times like this.

"Fine," he answered instead.

She studied him with a slight tilt of her head; it was all she was able to manage at the moment. "You're a terrible liar," she said after a moment, taking careful steps toward the kitchen. "What to talk about it?" she tossed the question over her shoulder as she also tossed back a few Advil to ease her pounding headache.

"Not about that." He watched her as she paused in her path out of the kitchen, a grimace forming on her features. Reaching out, he lifted the lid of the room service tray that she hadn't noticed yet. "Hungry?"

Her pallor suddenly changed to a sickly green as the aroma of breakfast reached her nose. "Oh, God," she murmured as her stomach churned wildly.

The next minute, she was gone. Oliver heard the bathroom door slam a second later and was struck with silence for a few minutes. When she didn't reappear after ten, Oliver became concerned.

He knew what a night of drinking could do to one's body and after all the bourbon Isla had consumed, he knew she wouldn't be feeling all that great this morning. That was why he'd only ordered a few pieces of dry toast and an egg for her from room service.

Knocking gently on the door, he heard her shifting around inside, a groan of disgust echoing off the walls. "You okay?"

"Give me another minute," she told him. He heard the water in the tap turn on, so he decided to take a seat on the edge of the bed that faced the door.

She emerged another minute later, a sheepish expression on her face. "Hi."

He let half of a grin quirk up one side of his mouth. "Hi. Feel better?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

Getting back to his feet, he took hold of her hand and tugged. "Come on. You need to eat something."

She whimpered weakly in protest, but allowed him to lead her. "I'm really not looking forward to a repeat performance."

"A few bites of dry toast should calm your stomach. They also brought up some ginger ale for you." He pushed her down onto one of the stools at the bar and set the place in front of her.

She looked at the food with disdain, but picked up a piece of toast when Oliver wouldn't relent. Tentatively, she took a small bite and waited for the inevitable revolt from her stomach. It never came, though and she was relieved. To celebrate, she took another bite.

"Thank you for this," she said motioning to the food. "You didn't have to."

He shrugged off the gratitude. "I know what drinking that much bourbon is like. I'm actually surprised you're able to walk right now because of it. That would have knocked me back before I even reached the halfway point. Of course, these days my resolve isn't as great as it used to be."

"You were quite the partier back in the day, weren't you?"

He nodded, sipping again from his coffee. "I'm not exactly proud of that fact, now though. Life back then was just so much... easier."

She nodded in agreement. "Tell me about it." She shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she picked up her second piece of toast. "I'm the reason you and Felicity are fighting, aren't I?" A pink tint filtered into her pallid cheeks with a hint of guilt. "I overheard you talking on the phone before I came out."

Stunned for a moment by her question, he fought to find an answer that wouldn't offend her. "Things are... complicated," he finally said, echoing the words he'd spoken to her when they'd had lunch at the beginning of the week. Had it only been Monday when she'd walked into the club, asking him to lunch? It seemed forever ago, already.

"So, I _am_ the reason," she discerned with a frown. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "Don't be. It's not just that. There are other factors that had to do with it as well."

"She's the one you were talking about at lunch the other day, wasn't she?"

He immediately wanted to argue, to not want to put Felicity in the middle of it all. But, she already was, he remembered. "How did you know about her?"

Now that half her breakfast was gone—making the green hue fade from her cheeks to be replaced by healthy glow—he noticed the proud look in her eyes and knew he was getting another glimpse of the big, bad CEO she was. "I know talent when I see it. Felicity caught my eye long before I came to Starling. When I found out her position had been dissolved at Queen Consolidated, I figured it was my chance to get her to come join us in River City. Little did I know she would fight so hard to remain here." Her eyes swiveled toward his in a knowing manner. "Now, I know why."

He frowned, a creased forming between his brows. "How long have you been trying to recruit her?"

"Two months at least, maybe..." she paused as realization suddenly dawned on her. "She didn't tell you, did she?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he felt a headache beginning to emerge. "No." This was just another addition to his list of complications. Would Felicity leave Starling and continue to pursue her dreams all the way out in River City? Using her skills in IT was all she'd ever wanted and then Oliver had to drag her into his chaotic life. She'd sacrificed everything for him and his crusade and... he just didn't know what to think about that.

Of course, he knew he should let her go if she wanted to. That was, after all, the noble thing to do. But, he was just too damn selfish to let that happen. He needed Felicity in his life like he needed air to breathe. He couldn't let her go. He couldn't stand the idea of losing her, especially now when he knew what it was like to kiss her. To feel her tender touch as her fingers ran across his body. Whether she knew it or not, she'd caressed each one of his scars, almost loving them because they were part of him.

"I'm sorry," Isla frowned, drawing his thoughts away from his blond partner. "I didn't know."

He shook his head, successfully pushing his confusing thoughts about Felicity away so he could focus on the woman in front of him. "No. It's fine. It's not like I've told her my entire life story, anyway. Why should she had to tell me about you offering her a job?" Did his words sound as bitter to her as they did to him? He hoped not.

"and risk having you act this way about it?" she questioned with a single raised eyebrow. "It's probably better that she didn't."

He didn't want to talk about this anymore. His head was beginning to pound; his mind was reeling from everything that had happened in the last week, not to mention that blow she'd given him to his head. He needed to get back to the task at hand. "Rasputin is dead." He said the sentence simply and without malice, but it was effective enough to tell her that the previous subject was closed.

The piece of toast she'd been nibbling on slipped from her fingers, falling to the plate with a clatter. "What?"

He nodded, curiosity clear in his eyes. "He and his men were found early this morning. Electrocuted."

She looked like he'd just punched her in the stomach. He noticed the way her hands were shaking slightly. "This is bad," she told him before anger flared up in her eyes. "How did they find him?" She was asking the question more to herself than him. "I was so careful to cover my tracks. They weren't supposed to know about Andrei."

"Andrei?" he asked, studying her. "You were on a first-name basis with that maniac?"

She rolled her eyes at the implication of his words. "It was nothing like that. He was good for information and I needed it. He also liked money and I had it. It was an acquaintanceship that we could both afford."

"And how long had this been going on?"

"It hadn't. He was introduced through a mutual friend and that had been the first and only time we'd met."

"Who was the friend?"

"Ivan," she said, noting the surprise on Oliver's face. "He moved to River City six months ago. He found out that I was there as well and he looked me up." A hint of sadness filled her voice as she spoke of the man Oliver knew quite well.

Ivan Leskov was your typical Russian. Broad-shouldered and gruff, he'd been one of the Bratva's most efficient Lieutenants. Just the idea of him would strike fear into the enemies of the brotherhood. He and Oliver had grown quite close during his time in Russia and been a fierce protector of Isla when he'd brought her into the fold.

It had been years since they'd last spoken. "How is Ivan?"

One of her shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Better, though he walks with a limp, now." There was guilt in her eyes. It was plain as day.

"Hey," he said, reaching out for her with a tender touch. "It wasn't your fault."

"How can you say that? Of course it was my fault. Ivan was there to protect me and he got shot because of it." A tear escaped her watery gaze and she hastily reached up to wipe it away.

"Isla, look at me," Oliver urged with a squeeze of her hand. She did, but she took the time to get her emotions under control first. "I need you to understand something. Bad things happen. Everyday. And while it seems like they revolve around you, they don't. Just because they happen, it doesn't mean it's your fault." He would know. Bad things happened around him in spades and he blamed himself for a lot of them, but over time he'd come to realize that he'd never actually had any control over those situations.

"It sounds like you know something about it," she smirked, sadly.

His grin mirrored hers. "I know a bit, but I'm still learning just how true those words are."

"So, what happens now?" While she wasn't enjoying this close moment with her friend, she was ready to take the next step. No more secrets. No more crying. Now, she was ready for some action.

Oliver thought about it for a minute. But there really wasn't any need. There was only one logical step to take, next. "Now... I think it's time you met my team."


	13. Chapter Thirteen

_**Hello, all! It's been another busy week and I've been working on editing this chapter as much as I could. I had to tweek this ending a bit, though I'm still not completely happy with it. But stay tuned. The Isla and Felicity showdown in coming soon. :)**_

 ** _Enjoy!_**

 ** _Linny_**

* * *

 **Anything For Love**

 **Chapter Thirteen**

"Where's Felicity?" Oliver asked as he led Isla down the stairs and into the lair. He'd called ahead to tell the team that he was bringing her to the foundry, so he wasn't surprised to find Roy and Diggle there waiting for them. Their pretty, blond partner, however, was nowhere to be seen.

"She had a shift over at Tech Village," Roy told him as he eyed up their visitor. She didn't look like the woman he'd fought in the alley two nights ago. She looked tired and frightened as her wide brown eyes scanned the basement of the foundry. He knew her visit was supposed to be a peaceful one, yet that didn't keep him from remaining on guard. He'd learned that fear could be just as dangerous as anger. And now he had the wounds to prove it. "She said she would be working late."

Oliver nodded, deciding it was probably for the best that she stayed away for this initial meeting. He knew he wouldn't be able to handle both Felicity's anger and the emotional rollercoaster Isla was about to take them on at the same time.

Turning to the woman in question, he had to smile at the look of awe she wore on her face. "What do you think?"

She seemed impressed. "You weren't kidding when you said this place had more than a shower." Frowning, she paused momentarily and inwardly cursed at herself. "That came out so much differently than how it sounded in my head." She scrunched her nose in disapproval of herself as she glanced in Oliver's direction. His calm demeanor was comforting and his grin was reassuring. "I guess I'm just a bit nervous."

"There's nothing to be nervous about. No matter what you have to say, you're safe down here." He looked to Digg and Roy as they stood near Felicity's workspace. They remained silent, though, almost sizing Isla up. Despite the fact that they'd agreed to this meet-and-greet, their trust was riding a fine line.

"I hope you're right," was Isla's response as she continued to move around the room. Approaching the glass case that held his suit, she eyed it speculatively. It was well used with rips and tears that had been cleanly mended by a skilled hand. She then moved over to the case that held his bow and arrows. She caressed the smooth surface of the weapon before moving onto the cases that held Roy's uniform and bow as well. "I"m impressed. You've certainly upgraded from the 9mm you used to carry."

Roy and Digg's brows lifted with interest, but Oliver paid them little mind. He knew they would have some questions about that, but answering them was just as difficult as answering any of their other questions about his past. One day, he would tell them everything, he was sure, but today was not going to be that day.

"We can talk about that later," he said as he motioned toward his teammates. "For now, I'd like to introduce you to the two men who always have my back. John Diggle. Roy Harper."

She nodded at each of them in turn instead of extending a hand for either of them to shake. She had the feeling her warm greeting wouldn't be well received. "It's good to know that Oliver is in good hands, though I hope the two of you don't always take it easy on him. He can be a little hard-headed."

Diggle's shoulders shook as he snorted with laughter. "She really does know you, doesn't she?" he asked, giving Oliver a slap on the back.

Oliver only chuckled in response.

"Does that mean I passed?"

"Passed what?" Roy asked.

She rolled her eyes. "Please. As if I didn't know the only reason why you two agreed to meet me was because you wanted to size me up. See if I'm a threat. "Believe me, I'm not." Despite the fact that her actions told a different story.

She slipped passed them and approached Felicity's desk. She took in the sight of the mass of parts and wires. It was pretty good for a makeshift setup. The woman was just as talented as she'd first believed. But, then she remembered that she was the cause of this mess. What once had been quite the impressive system was now reduced to this pile of wreckage. Because of her.

Roy scoffed as he rubbed unconsciously at the burn on his chest. It didn't really hurt anymore, though there was still the hint of discomfort when he moved a certain way. "Yeah, why don't I believe that?"

Her cheeks turned pink with shame at his question and she had to avoid his gaze for a moment. When she was able to look at hum again, her eyes were filled with regret. "I'm sorry. I know those words don't mean much, but..."

"It's okay," Roy interrupted, surprised at his own words for a minute.

"It is?" she asked, stunned.

"It surprises me too, but I understand. You were desperate for information and we were standing in your way. I'm just saying... I get it."

She studied him for a moment, realizing that even though he was young, he'd dealt with a lot in his life. He knew what desperation was like and he knew what it was like to overcome it. "Most people wouldn't."

He shrugged, a smirk curling up one side of his mouth. He looked like a model in a fashion magazine when he did. "Were not most people."

She smiled in return. "So, I can see."

"So, what happened to you?" He winced at the way his words sounded to his own ears. He was trying to be compassionate, but it was difficult when someone so dangerous was standing less than five feet away from him. He might have forgiven her, but that didn't mean he wasn't still afraid of her. "Sorry, that didn't come out the way I wanted it to." They had just seemed to form a comfortable rapport—though cold—and the question had just slipped out.

She shook her head, a small smirk still intact. "Don't bother. I figured you would ask and I deserve everything you probably want to throw my way."

"No, you don't," Oliver argued, yet he was the only member of his team to do so. Diggle and Roy just didn't know Isla like he did. They didn't know the warm heart hidden underneath the layers of fear and pain she had to dig through everyday. They'd done it for him, they could do it for her. Roy had at least taken the first step in forgiving her. There were still so many more to go, though.

"Yes I do, Oliver. I don't deserve kind platitudes or excuses for my behavior. And your team is right to be afraid of me." She picked nervously at her fingernails only to avoid the three sets of eyes boring into her, almost waiting for her to pounce or something.

He shook his head at Isla's words of self-deprecation. "I don't believe that. If there is anything that I have learned since I've come back home, it's that everyone is deserving of redemption. It took me a while to see that and you will too one day."

She said nothing in response. She only offered a half-hearted smile she wasn't even sure was real. Licking her lips, she ran a hand haphazardly through her loose brown locks. She was obviously trying not to let her emotions get the better of her. It wasn't working though.

"Where do I start?" she asked, thinking for a moment as she paced a distance of five or six steps before turning and pacing the other way. "I... was working in the backroom of Anatoly's bar," she began a moment later. She stopped pacing and leaned against a nearby table. Her fingers were clenching the edge so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. "He, Oliver and a few others were off doing whatever it was they did." She never wanted to know the details. She always thought she was better off not knowing. And as she spared a glance in Oliver's direction, she saw how his gaze fogged over and knew it was probably for the best. "Three men came in with guns. They shot Ivan in the leg so he wouldn't be able to follow when they took me."

"He said you put up a fight," Oliver interjected.

She nodded, a hint of pride sparkling in her eyes. "Oh, I wasn't going down without a fight." She remembered how she'd broken the hand of the first one who'd tried to grab her and the nose of the second. The third had come up from behind her, taking her by surprise.

"They were able to get the better of me, though. They knocked me out and when I woke up, I was somewhere else." She wallowed thickly as she tore her hands away from the cool metal of the table and crossed her arms over her chest. She could feel her emotions shifting and if she lost control, it could possibly cause her to electrocute them all. "It was a rundown hospital. It was dark and dirty and it smelled horrible. I remember that I was strapped to this table and I could hear people screaming."

"There were others trapped with you?" Diggle asked, a frown making his brows crease together. Isla closely observed the large black man. He hadn't said much since her arrival; only studied her. She recognized him as military by sight alone. A man than stoic and cool could only be that.

She nodded, "Yes. But I never met them. Each of us were secluded in our own cells. I suppose it was a way to protect each of us if when our powers did develop. I only dealt with the doctors. And they only spoke Russian. Oliver and Anatoly had taught me, so I knew what they were saying as I was being prepped for the... procedure, I guess you could cal it. Some of the other... patients is what we were called... they died during the experiment."

Dragging in a shaky breath, she could remember everything up until things started to go fuzzy. That had been right before they'd put her under an anesthetic. They'd done so because what they were doing could be quite painful. The medial staff had carried bruises and wounds consistent with being attacked. She cold only guess that a few of the patients had lashed out against them.

While remembering that part was indeed terrible, the one thing she remembered most was her fear. The fear of not knowing what was happening. The fear of what they would do to her. The fear of possibly dying at the hands of those psychos. The fear that she would never see her family again.

"What did they do to you?" Oliver asked, his tone soft and tender. There was no judgment in his voice; only curiosity.

The fact tat her—all of them, really—were being so kind and considerate of her feelings almost brought her to tears. Once she'd allowed the floodgates to open, everything had just come pouring out. And they'd just stood there beside her, quietly listening until she was done.

She really didn't deserve their kindness.

"I'm still not completely sure. And I guess that's a good thing, right? The less I remember, the better off we all are," she chuckled halfheartedly, though the sound carried no amount of humor. "I still have glimpses of what they did to me while I was drugged, but I do remember these glowing rocks."

"Glowing rocks?" Roy asked, a bit skeptical of her description.

She nodded as the memory of them entered her mind. "There were shelved filled with them. The doctor's said they were some kind of meteor rock and that they had certain effects on some people."

"How would that work, exactly?" Oliver asked. "How could they effect people?"

"They were able to grind the rocks up so finely that when added to a liquid it would just dissolve and almost... transform the liquid. Some people had a simple injection, like me. Others were given it through an IV to give them a larger dose. But there were others who'd been cut open as a last resort if the first two options didn't work and the serum was injected directly into their organs. And I'm not just talking a single needle. They would inject them at least a dozen times."

She frowned as she thought about that last option. While she'd never met any of her fellow patients, she had seen quite a few of them being rolled out when every option failed and their bodies finally gave out. The only reason she knew so much about the other treatments was because the staff would talk freely around her. They'd figured that since she was American, she wouldn't understand them when they spoke Russian.

"So, they injected you with this serum and now you can generate electricity from your hands," Digg should his head as he tried to wrap his head around it all "Whatever happened to just being normal these days?" He was rely beginning to miss the days when he was simply a body guard. Then, he hadn't had to deal with hard-headed vigilantes, psychotic billionaires looking to level entire burroughs of the city, or genetically enhanced super soldiers. Those days really had been simpler.

Isla smirked now that the worst of the conversation was over, giving Oliver's teammates a glimpse of the woman they hadn't met yet. "Come on, John. We all know that being normal is highly overrated. That's why we're all here." She allowed a small spark to arc from the index and middle fingers of her right hand.

Digg took a step away, his hack rigid and his eyes wide in apprehension. "That doesn't mean I don't miss the good old days."

She nodded in agreement. "Don't we all?"

The group remained in silence for quite some time, allowing everything to sink in. This was new territory for the team and they weren't sure how to begin.

"What do you think?" Oliver asked Diggle after a few minutes.

Digg shrugged, scratching at his chin with the back of his hand. "I really don't know what to think. This is new for us. I wouldn't even know where to begin." He still had so many questions. While he could understand how they would blackmail Isla into killing, he just didn't understand why. "Do you think the men who took your husband had anything to do with your... treatment?" He'd tried searching for proper term, but couldn't find one.

She nodded. "That's my theory. Before I told you, Rick was the only person I'd told. My parents don't even know. It would have to be them."

"Do you know what happened to them after you were released?" Roy asked.

"No. When I found myself at the Embassy, I was so disoriented that I could barely remember my own name. Some of my memories returned to me over time, but there are still gaps. Large gaps. I returned to Russia a few years ago, but I couldn't find anything. There had been rumors about a facility, but that was all it had been; a rumor."

"What about Anatoly? Did you trying asking him?"

She shook her head at Oliver's question, her expression slightly ashamed. "I haven't spoken to Anatoly at all."

That surprised him. The Russian had taken her in, treated her like a daughter. The fact that she wouldn't turn to him for help was a bit shocking. "Why?"

"And tell him what? That I was a guinea pig for some psycho Russian doctor with these crazy glowing rocks and now I can shoot electricity from my hands? I know that it's true and it still sounds crazy coming out of my mouth." She shook her head again, almost shuddering. "Besides, I could barely tell you. There's no way I could have told him too."

Oliver said nothing else as he processed everything she'd told them. He never could have believed it could have been as bad as she'd said. But, Isla had been taken and tortured by these madmen. She'd been forced to listen to people die and she could have died herself. She'd told him she was different, now. And it truly hadn't occurred to him just how different she was. It was a lot to take in, just as if probably had been for her to talk about.

On the outside, she seemed to be handling their talk well, but Oliver knew differently. She wasn't okay. And she wouldn't be okay until their rescued her husband. He watched her for a moment. She was fiddling with Felicity's setup a bit, trying to see what was connected to what.

"I can fix this," she said, breaking the silence when she felt his gaze following her every movement.

"I'm sure you could, but all of this is not really my area of expertise."

Isla nodded in agreement. "I remember."

Oliver rolled her eyes at her teasing tone. "Funny."

Chuckling softly before turning sincere, she placed a gentle hand on his forearm. "But, really. I want to thank you and your team for helping me. There is some tech our company has been developing. Some of it is close to being released to the public in the next year or so, but there are other things still in development that I think could be highly useful to you all." She had the feeling that Oliver was willing to accept her offer, but something was holding him back. "But, I want to meet her first," she quickly adding, drawing the attention of the other two men in the room as well. They said nothing, but watched intently.

Oliver shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea, right now. When Felicity gets like this, it's best to keep your distance for a while."

"We don't have a while," she reminded him. "The longer we wait, the closer my deadline gets. To do this, we're going to need her help. Let me at least try to make things right."

Oliver's gaze shot to his two teammates, silently asking them for their input.

"She's right, Oliver," Diggle spoke up. "We need Felicity for this."

"What do you think?" Oliver asked Roy who'd been far too silent for too long.

The younger man shrugged and, before he even spoke, Oliver knew what his vote was going to be. "We can't do it without her."

Sighing his resignation, Oliver finally gave in. "Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you."


	14. Chapter Fourteen

_**Sooo, I've been super busy. I finally got some time to sit down and do some writing. I hope this chapter lives up to the hype, because it's time for Felicity and Isla to finally meet.**_

 ** _Enjoy!_**

 ** _:) Linny_**

* * *

 **Anything For Love**

 **Chapter Fourteen**

Stupid printer in the stupid office of the stupid store where she had to work to pay her stupid bills! All she wanted to do was make copies of the company's order forms so she could do inventory, but the remarkably out-of-date, piece of junk printer was repeatedly giving her error messages. If it wasn't a paper jam, then it was an issue with the toner cartridge. If it was neither of those things, it was just being a piece of crap! She could hack into NASA if she wanted to, but she couldn't get this damn thing to work!

Ugh! She kicked it, but it didn't really ease her aggravation. After all, the machine wasn't the cause of her ire, but it had added to it.

The entire week had been bad. Sure, she'd had worse, but this one had certainly make the list. While she loved working alongside Oliver, Roy, and Diggle to help save the city, there were times when it took a toll on her emotionally. She was tired and the fact that she was angry at Oliver's friend wasn't helping matters any.

And there was also the fact that she'd hung up on Oliver that morning and hadn't talked to him since. It wasn't the first time. It probably wouldn't have been the last time, either. Some of their arguments had been worse and there were days that they would only speak about their latest case. Those were the days she hated the most. She hated being angry at Oliver. She hated not talking to him.

She just didn't understand how he could blindly defend Isla. She'd almost electrocuted Roy, had completely fried her poor computer system and had almost killed them all. Plus, there was also the fact that she was in Starling to kill someone! Sure, Felicity could understand that she was only doing it because her husband's life was in danger, but how was Oliver supposed to know if Isla was even telling them the truth or not? She could be lying to all of them and they wouldn't even know because Oliver chose to believe her without hesitation.

That was what made her angry the most. That and the fact that the closeness of their relationship made her a bit jealous. Yes, she was going to actually admit it. She was jealous of Isla and Oliver. She might not have said it out loud, but that didn't make it any less true.

Of course, Felicity and Oliver were close and had grown even closer ever since he'd saved her from Slade Wilson. And if the kiss they'd shared the other day—dear god, had it only been yesterday morning?—had been any indication, they'd grown much closer.

That was another thing that made her angry. They still had yet to talk about that. Her lips and skin still tingled from the warmth of his touch. She'd dreamed of what it would be like to kiss Oliver Queen and, boy, her dreams were nothing compared to the real thing. Her face flamed at the memory of his hard body pressed up against hers and how his stubble tickled her skin. She knew he hadn't planned it. She didn't even really know if he'd wanted to kiss her... like ever.

She had a feeling what his little 'talk' would be about—if it did ever happen. And she dreaded the idea of him pulling back again. She didn't want him to pull back. She wanted him to open up to the idea of them. To accept it.

She wanted to explore the possibilities presented to them if they were to take this next step.

She wanted to explore Oliver.

Every inch of him.

With her fingers.

And her tongue...

Boy, it was starting to get hot in that tiny office.

Fanning herself with her clipboard, she cursed under her breath. Images of the things she could do that man and, in turn, the things he could do to her were forging in her mind. Damn Oliver for being so good at concealing his true feelings. It made her want to kick the frackin' printer again.

So, she did.

"Now, what did it ever do to you?" a voice she'd never heard before in person, but she would know anywhere, asked with a teasing lilt.

Feeling the hairs rise on the back of her neck, Felicity froze as if someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over her head. Cursing under her breath again, she glanced momentarily over her shoulder to verify that it was indeed who she thought was standing at the door.

She knew this meeting was inevitable, she just wished she would have had more warning so she could prepare herself. Both mentally and emotionally. And it probably wouldn't have hurt to arm herself with a stapler or something.

"I called out, but I guess you didn't hear me while you were beating on the poor, defenseless printer," Isla continued, still teasing, since Felicity hadn't offered any kind of response.

She was leaning against the doorframe of the small office, wearing a black t-shirt that sported the gold emblem of the River City Riverhounds and a pair of well-loved and very comfortable-looking blue jeans. The brunette certainly didn't look as Felicity had expected.

Of course, she'd seen pictures of Isla. When she'd finally accepted to take the interview for the position at StewartTech, she'd done her research on the company. And on Rick Stewart and his wife. The woman features on the company's website looked strong and confident, but the woman standing in that doorway looked tired and sad.

It almost made Felicity feel sorry for her. Almost. She still didn't offer a response, only returned her focus to her previous duty as she jabbed at the button that was supposed to clear the error code.

Why didn't she say anything? Because once she'd come face-to-face with the woman she'd been strongly hating—and possibly envisioning horrible, torturous circumstances for—she'd found a broken woman who was desperate to do anything to save the man she loved.

Ugh! What was she doing? This seething, angry woman wasn't her. She wasn't the type of person to hold a grudge like this. Especially when it was with a person she didn't really know. There was only so much one could learn about a person on the internet. It was when you actually sat down and talked to them that you truly met the real them. Even then, people weren't so quick to reveal the pain and anguish they lived through on a daily basis.

Still, Felicity didn't wan to like Isla, or even feel sorry for her. Not after everything she'd done.

"I guess I deserve the cold shoulder," Isla said, clearly understanding the blonde's dislike of her. Of course, it wasn't exactly difficult to figure out why. "But, I was hoping we could talk." All joking aside now, her tone had become serious.

"I really have nothing to say to you," Felicity finally replied, ready to kick the damn printer again only to see if it would make her feel better. There had been much more ire to her tone than she'd thought there would be. Even after she'd begun to shift her beliefs around a bit.

Isla nodded in understanding as she ran a hand through her hair and pushed off the doorjamb. "Is that the Viper5200?" She stepped up to the machine, her gaze critical as she took in the sight of the technical dinosaur separating them. "We used to use these at StewartTech a few years ago, but they were constantly giving us problems and they would be under maintenance more than they were operational. Finally, we just gave up and developed our own. We did figure out how to fix it temporarily, though... or rather, Rick and his team did." She motioned to the keypad with one hand. "May I?"

"Sure," Felicity said coldly as she took a step back. "Let's see what else you can blow up." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. And she was still angry enough to not take them back.

Isla didn't even flinch at the icy tone of the other woman's jibe as she made quick work with the printer. After a few key presses, it was spewing out page after page. "I deserve your hostility toward me," she admitted after a moment of silence between the two of them. She used the nail of her thumb to pick at an old, faded sticker than a previous employee had stuck to it. "I know I do."

Good, Felicity thought to herself, snidely. "So... what now? You think just because you helped me get this relic to work that it means we're going to be best friends now? You could have killed all of us." She might have been blowing things a bit out of proportion, but it felt good to get these things off her chest.

"I'm sorry," was all Isla could find to say. She could try to tell Felicity that the virus hadn't been intended to injure anyone because it had been programmed to make the system implode upon itself. She had the feeling the other woman wouldn't want to listen, though.

"And just because you say the words, it doesn't mean anything has changed between us." She ripped the copies our of the machine and attached them to the clipboard she'd set on the small desk in the corner. "Now, if you excuse me, I actually have to finish my work tonight if I want to get paid." She pushed passed Isla and began heading toward the stockroom.

Yet, the other woman remained relentless and began to follow her.

"Then, what can I say or do to make you realize I mean them?"

Rounding back on her heels, Felicity's eyes turned cold again. "You know what you can do? You can leave. Oliver already has enough on his plate trying to get his family's company back without you adding your own baggage to his already heavy load." This was just her anger getting the better of her, she knew. She would have never said those words if things hadn't been continuously piling up around her. Sure, her tempter was a force to be reckoned with, but it usually never lingered.

"I never wanted to include Oliver in this," Isla countered, yet her tone never wavered from the kind pitch she'd been using since she'd arrived. "But, of course, he had to interfere and be all... Oliver." She rolled her eyes at that fact. "This is supposed to be my burden, but he insists on helping because he feels guilty for letting this happen to me. And also, because it's just the kind of man he is."

"You're going to kill someone." She was being hypocritical, she mentally rolled her eyes at herself. Oliver had killed plenty of people before she joined up with him and John. He'd even killed _for_ her. When Count Vertigo had caught her trying to steal his most recent incarnation of his drug so they could find an antidote, Oliver hadn't even hesitated to let his arrows fly straight into the maniac's chest. He'd told her there had been no choice to make when it came down to the Count killing her or the Arrow killing the Count.

"It's not like I want to do it." Isla's tone turned hopeful as she searched Felicity's face for some tiny hint that there could be a truce between them. She wasn't looking for them to become best friends. She only wanted them to work together. "And with your help, I might not have to."

This surprised Felicity. "My help?"

"You're the best, Felicity," the brunette smirked. "I wouldn't have tried to recruit you if you weren't. But, I can see that your skills are being put to good use by doing what you do to help Oliver and this city. You guys are a team and I know a simple job offer could never compete with that. I need your help, Felicity... I need your help to find my husband."

Stunned, the blonde wasn't sure what to think. She'd gone completely on the defensive when Isla had stepped into her other life, never expecting that this would be the reason for her visit. She hadn't known what to expect, really, but her pleading for Felicity's help certainly was the farthest thing that would have ever crossed her mind.

Isla's brown eyes were large, round and sincere as she silently begged for help. And Felicity felt her heart jolt as if someone had just jabbed it with something sharp and pointy. She would give in, because her conscience ruled her entire life. She couldn't allow this woman's anguish to continue any longer.

"Okay," she finally relented. "But, I don't know what I can do. It's not exactly like I'm flying high with my equipment lately."

"Which is my fault, I know," Isla reminded her with a small smile that was quickly turning watery. Tears had flooded her eyes, but she continued to hold strong to keep them at bay. "But, I'd like to make it up to you."

Felicity was curious to discover what Isla had in mind. "How?"


	15. Chapter Fifteen

_**Hello, all! The craziness of the holidays has finally settled down and work has eased up a little, so I guess I'm back! This chapter contains a bit of Russian so I've added a bit of a cheat sheet at the bottom of the page. Now, let's check in on Oliver to see what he's up to, shall we?**_

 _ **:) enjoy!**_

 _ **Linny**_

* * *

 **Anything for Love**

Chapter Fifteen

Big Belly Burger was busy for a Friday evening. Oliver placed his order and managed to find an empty table over by the front windows. Pulling his phone out of his jacket pocket, he switched it on. His thumb hovered over his contacts menu. For the last few days, he'd been debating with himself whether he should make this call. Anatoly would want to know that Isla was alive, he knew that. During their time in Russia, he'd taken her into his life and had treated her like a daughter.

She'd never been a member of the Bratva, but the small tattoo on her wrist documented her time as a part of that family. And that she would always be under the brotherhood's protection.

And that was why he pushed the button. Because she was family.

Holding the phone to his ear, he listened to it ring and waited impatiently for his old friend to answer.

* * *

 _The explosion came in the middle of the night. The stone walls of their cell shook, small pieces of debris crumbling down on top of them where they slept in the corner, huddled together for warmth._

 _They woke up with a start. Oliver was already alert and on his feet by the time gunshots were echoing down the corridor. And he would hear yelling above the cacophony._

" _What's going on?" Isla asked as she stumbled to her feet. It had been less than a week since Oliver's arrival, but the extra helpings of food he'd been giving her had increased her strength enough that she could move with a lot more ease, now. She was still ill, though. There was a deep, rumbling cough that came from deep within her chest that he didn't like._

 _Pressing his ear to the door, he listened to muffled shouts of Russian. It was difficult to make out the words with all that chaos going on, but he was certain of the person who was speaking them. Anatoly. "Sounds like reinforcements," he grinned before getting down on the ground near the flap in the door and lifting it so he could peer through._

 _He couldn't see much. The hallway was dark, but he could see the booted feet of the guards that had just passed by the door. They were all heavily-armed and aiming to fire. The barrel flashes illuminating the corridor, giving him brief glimpses of the melee._

 _As he'd suspected, Anatoly was leading the charge, a handful of Bratva brothers close at his heels as they opened fire on the guards. One following from behind was breaking open the locks to every cell in search of their lost member, releasing the other prisoners as they went. Oliver caught a glimpse of them as well. He hadn't been aware how many other had been trapped there with them._

 _The guards fell one-by-one as the group charged closer._

" _Anatoly!" Oliver caled out, drawing the attention of his brothers._

"Chert poberi (*1) _, Oliver!"_ _Anatoly cursed as he broke away from the bunch to open the cell._

 _Oliver quickly climbed to his feet, reaching out for Isla behind him. She shied away from him, her fear prevalent in her eyes. "Oliver..." she whimpered meekly. The loud noises coming from outside were clearly frightening her._

 _He took the two steps toward her, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder to calm her. She was beginning to hyperventilate, which would lead into a coughing fit. "It's okay. We're getting out of here."_

 _Her fear didn't completely dissipate, yet she nodded to tell him that she trusted him to lead her to safety. "Okay."_

 _She jumped at the sound of the lock being removed and cowered behind him as the latch was being undone. They both winced as the door was opened and the dim light filtered inside the practicaly pitch-dark space._

 _Oliver reached out for Isla as he turned for her again. "C'mon. We have to go."_

 _She said nothing as she took his hand, only nodded as she watched the other man hand Oliver a large gun. The younger man checked the weapon before slinging it over his shoulder by the attached strap and turned back to Isla. The fear was still clear in her face, so he took a moment to make certain she was listening to him._

 _Giving her had a firm squeeze, he waited until her brown eyes focused on his blue ones. "Stay close to me."_

 _She nodded again. "Okay."_

 _The Russian's gaze shifted between Oliver and the girl who hid behind him, but said nothing about it. There would be plenty of time to talk about it once they'd fled this hellhole. "We have to move," he said instead as he peered around the doorframe. A fresh wave of guards were headed their way and he reached up to fire his weapon. Oliver heard two more bodies drop and felt Isla's fingernails dig into his back as she grasped hold of his shirt._

 _Making certain the coast was now clear, the Russian motioned for his friend and their new companion to follow him to safety._

* * *

There was a distinct click and a breathless voice on the other end. " _Kakogo cherta_ (*2), Oliver! Tell me it isn't true!" Anatoly's gruff voice ordered into the phone in a hushed tone. There was chatter in the background, but nothing that could be made out.

Oliver froze at the question. This wasn't the reception he'd been expecting when making this call. And he wasn't exactly sure what Anatoly was talking about. It couldn't be about Isla. "What are you talking about?"

"There are rumors going around the brotherhood that you had Alexi killed." There was a thump as the heavy door of Anatoly's office was shut, blocking out the noise of his bar.

Oliver cursed under his breath. Of course they would think that. After all, Alexi had been doing a job for him when Slade had killed him. He knew the incident would strain his relationship with the Bratva. He just didn't know how much. "That's not what happened. He was working _for_ me when he waskilled." It still wouldn't take the blame off of him, though.

"You know that doesn't matter. They know he was questioning your loyalty and it won't matter who exactly did the killing."

The younger man groaned. This was a shit-storm that he didn't need right now. "Have they made a decision, yet?" The Botherhood would deliberate his case, as was their custom when they suspect that one of their own had wronged another. The death of Alexi was going to cause more problems for him. If not now, then soon.

" _Nyet_ (*3). But, they will soon. You know how they handle traitors."

Oh, he knew alright. He'd dealt with a few of them himself while in Russia. Those memories still haunted him deep down inside.

Dammit!

Of course, it wasn't himself he was worried for. He was worried about everyone else around him. He was worried for Felicity and Diggle, Laura and Sara, Thea... the Bratva would do things to them before they did anything to him. And they would make him watch. He couldn't allow that to happen. He had to protect them all.

But, he could only focus on one problem at a time. He would deal with the Brotherhood later.

Sighing, he scraped a hand over his jaw in frustration and pushed his fears to the back of his mind. "As bad as that is, Anatoly, that wasn't the reason for this call."

The Russian's sigh was just as heavy as Oliver's had been. "More bad news, my friend?"

"Not exactly."

Oliver paused as the waitress—a young girl who couldn't have been more than twenty—set his order down in front of him. He gave her a small smile of thanks. She returned the smile and shot him a saucy wink before walking away. Oliver didn't pretend to notice that her hips carried an obvious sway to them that they hadn't before. He merely shook his head. He was used to that sort of reaction from women, it was a hazard from being in the media for so many years.

"It's Isla," he heard the other man gasp as he returned his attention back to his call. It was obviously a topic he hadn't been expecting. "She's alive, Anatoly."

There was a huff of breath and a creak of leather as it sounded like the Russian had plopped down into the chair behind his desk. " _Moy Bog_ (*4)... you're sure?"

Oliver chuckled slightly, his heart instantlylightened by the other man's reaction. "Pretty sure. She's here in Starling." There was a hint of hesitation in his voice which he knew his old friend would pick up on immediately.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Nothing he could ask him to help him with anyway, now that things had changed between Oliver and the Brotherhood. "It's just... she's different."

There was a pause at the other end of the line and Oliver thought the call had dropped. He checked his phone to make sure it hadn't.

"Different how? Did she tell you what happened to her?" There was true worry in the other man's voice.

"Yes. She told me how she woke up in some kind of hospital and there were these doctors..." A lump formed in his throat as he spoke. He hated to think about what had happened to her when he hadn't been there to protect her. "They were experimenting on her. They turned her into... something else."

Anatoly muttered a curse under his breath. "It's not possible." He'd spoken the words aloud, but he hadn't been saying them to Oliver.

"What's not possible?" It was at that moment that Oliver believed his friend knew exactly what he was talking about. "What do you know, Anatoly?"

"Nothing concrete. I've only heard stories." He paused for a moment. Oliver could hear glass clinking together and knew the Russian had poured himself a drink. "About thirty years ago, there was a meteor shower. A few of these meteors broke through the atmosphere, landing in different places all around the world. The core of the meteorites... they glowed... and they had... effects on some people. Russian scientists were ordered to study them, but some specimens were lost." He paused again to take another drink. "Seven years ago, I began hearing stories about these _monstry_ (*5)... they were people, but not really. They could do things no human could do."

Oliver sighed as he picked at his food, his appetite only a memory the longer this conversation continued. Yes, he knew all of this because of what Isla had told him, and even though he'd seen what she could do, he still hadn't wanted to believe it as fact. Now, he had to. And if what Anatoly was telling him was true, then there were others like her out there as well. Which would explain what had happened to Rasputin.

"She was one of the lucky ones," he said, yet the tone of his voice was sad.

"Not so lucky... if the stories are true," the Russian countered, his voice just as solemn.

"She survived." As far as he was concerned, that was a good thing.

"This is true," Anatoly conceded.

"What else to you know about these _monstry_ (*5)?

"Only what the stories say. I've heard about people who are able to lift thousands of pounds. Ones who can create fire with their eyes. Others who could fly. I thought they were just stories, but I think you've proven me wrong, my friend."

"Do you know where this place could be?" Maybe if they could find the place where she'd been kept, then she could find a way to discover who was behind her husband's kidnapping. Or maybe even regain some of her memories. No matter how terrible they'd been.

"No. But, I can look into it... How is she?" The Russian asked after another pause and another shot of vodka.

At first, Oliver didn't quite understand what his friend was asking. Was Anatoly asking about her well-being or was he asking about what they'd done to her? "What do you mean?"

"It would break my heart to know what those bastards did to her, Oliver. She is well, yes?"

Sighing in relief, Oliver felt the stirrings of a smile twitch at the corner of her mouth. Yet, he didn't want to be the one to tell him about her situation. Isla should, but when Oliver had told her that Anatoly would want to know, she'd told him that too many people were already involved in her problem and changed the subject. So, that left it up to him. Anatoly _would_ want to know. "She's in trouble. Her husband has been kidnapped and she's being blackmailed."

"She's married?" the Russian seemed to be in awe of that fact.

"Yes." Oliver was curious as to where his friend's thoughts were leading him, but didn't ask.

"It's just... you two were so close." There was a clear implication to his words.

He knew what the older man was talking about, but he chose not to delve into it. "She's family, Anatoly." Yes, there had been one bizarre moment of weakness between he and Isla, but that had been five years ago. It was a fleeting memory that was best forgotten. They'd both decided on it. "I think it has something to do with _her_ kidnappers, though."

"What is it they want her to do?"

Clenching his napkin in his free hand, Oliver felt the thin paper crumple in his grasp as anger seethed through him. "They want her to kill someone." Suddenly self-conscious about this conversation, he glanced around the restaurant. Luckily, the other patrons were too self-absorbed with their own conversation to focus on his.

"Who is her target?"

"I don't know." She'd been evasive about that subject during their last conversation. She'd wanted to wait for the entire team to be assembled before divulging that information. He just hoped her talk with Felicity was going well. "Not yet, anyway. There have been a few roadblocks and she'd just as stubborn as you probably remember."

Anatoly chuckled at that. "Just as stubborn as you, you mean?"

Oliver rolled his eyes at his friend's attempt at humor, but knew just how true those words were. She _was_ just as stubborn as him, which is why she did remind him so much of Thea. She'd managed to fill that aching void in his chest while he was away from home. She'd filled it with laughter and love; something he hadn't felt for so long.

Anatoly's laughter only grew louder at his younger friend's silence.

"Very funny. I'll let you know when I find out more."

"Good," the other man's tone turned solemn once again. "But, remember my warning about the brotherhood."

Oliver nodded even though Anatoly couldn't see him. "I know... but one thing at a time, huh?"

"Very well. Until later, _moy brat_. (*6)"

" _Ne pozdneye_ (*7),Anatoly." Oliver hung up the phone, looking down at his picked-apart dinner. He hadn't eaten much, but now his appetite was gone.

* * *

Russian translations:

(*1) _Chert poberi_ \- Dammit

(*2) _Kakogo cherta_ \- What the hell

(*3) _Nyet_ \- No

(*4) _Moy bog_ \- My God

(*5) _Monstry_ -Monsters

(*6) _Moy brat_ \- My brother

(*7) _Ne pozdneye_ \- Until later


	16. Chapter Sixteen

_**Hello, everyone! I am so sorry for the long delay but for the last month I've been fighting with my internet connections. It got to the point that it would only be on for maybe ten minutes at a time, then be out for hours. But, I think I've gotten things all figured out, now. So, to make up for my long absence, here is an extra long chapter.**_

 _ **Enjoy!**_

 _ **:) Linny**_

* * *

 **Anything For Love**

 **Chapter Sixteen**

When Oliver returned to the foundry, he was stunned to find both Felicity and Isla hunched over one of the tables, their heads close as the softly talked to each other. He couldn't tell what they were working on, exactly, all he knew was that it held the complete focus of both women. Setting down his motorcycle helmet and removing his jacket, he eyed the two of them speculatively. The animosity between them seemed to have dissipated like a quickly evaporating fog, yet considering Felicity's anger toward the other woman, he found that unlikely. Yet, there were no icy cold eye glares from the tech genius, only soft murmurings as she tried to figure something out.

"Hi," he said, cautiously after he waited for both or either of them to acknowledge his arrival in some way. None immediately came. They were too wrapped up in whatever they were working on and as he moved closer, he could see that they were floorplans. But, of what he couldn't tell. And neither of them had yet realized that he was there. Unable to handle being ignored by both of them, Oliver loudly cleared his throat, hoping it would get some kind of reaction from them. It seemed to do the trick.

Two sets of eyes—one blue, one brown—shifted to look at him, surprise clear in them. "Hi," they said in unison before returning back to their conversation.

"What if we do something like this?" Isla asked as she penciled something into the plans.

"You think we can?" Felicity's tone was full of excitement, Oliver fully believed that she would begin bouncing up and down on her toes.

Shrugging, Isla shot her a secret little smile. "Why not?" It's going through beta testing at the moment, but from the reports I've read, it's completely operational. Besides, I'm sure you could work out any bugs that you might find."

"Where are Roy and Digg?" Oliver asked when he noticed their other two teammates were missing. And he wasn't prepared to admit it out loud, but the fact that the two of them were working so close together without any mishaps was kind of putting him on edge. He couldn't help but feel like the other shoe was going to drop and Felicity might end up throwing something at Isla's head.

The blonde glanced up at him, her expression filled with irritation that their very important conversation was continuously being interrupted. "Out on patrol." She glanced at one of the screens behind her for a second before flickering her gaze back to him. "It's been a pretty quiet night, though. They should be back soon."

"So... what's all this?" He motioned to whatever it was they were working on. That seemed to be the question to break through the creative fog the two of them had created.

Isla set down her pencil, but continued to lean over the table. "Like I said, I wanted to thank you for helping me with... well... everything. And apologize for... well, everything else." She smirked as the hint of a blush crept to her cheeks. She wouldn't allow herself to feel ashamed anymore, though. It wouldn't do any good, anyway. "So, Felicity and I are going over everything you might need to rebuild your system."

"With a few extra perks, I might add," Felicity was grinning like it was the first night of Hanukkah. "With the added security and the processing power of this tech, we just might be more powerful that A.R.G.U.S. Which should give Amanda Waller that swift kick in the behind she so desperately needs."

Oliver found himself grinning as well, mimicking the good moods of two of the women he cared for most. "I'm not going to argue with that," he chuckled as he approached the table, looking over the crude, yet accurately drawn, make up of the foundry. Of course, he couldn't really make much sense of the technical aspect of it, but if it was what felicity needed to have his back, he would let them have their fun. "How long before it's up and running?"

Tapping her fingers on the metal tabletop, Isla considered his question for a moment. "I think I can have everything ready for you tomorrow morning. Though, I might have to borrow John and Roy if you don't want my people to know what it is you do here."

He nodded in agreement. "Good idea. But, what about the business ramifications of all this? It looks like what you two are planning might get noticed by a few people if it goes missing." He was just stating the obvious and he hoped it wouldn't burst their happy, little bubbles. After all, he had been a CEO and had paid others to look closely at things to make sure funds and other important things stayed where they were supposed to. Being the head of her own tech company, Isla should have known that as well.

And it looked like she had, because she'd already been smiling at him before he'd finished his sentence. "I've already thought about that. StewartTech makes plenty of donations to worthy causes. No one would think twice about me doing something like this. Besides," she said as she leveled him with a steady gaze. "I don't know about you, but I don't believe I could ever think of a more deserving cause than keeping the streets of Starling City safe."

He nodded, "I couldn't agree more. And... thank you."

She shook her head, smirking. "It's true, you know. This is a noble cause and you can consider this both my gift of thanks and my contribution to it. In the long run, it might not be much, but..." she just shrugged instead of finishing her thought. Basically, she was trying to tell him that it was the least she could do. If only she could do more.

"It's perfect," he told her as he took hold of her hand, giving it a tender squeeze. In such close proximity, he could see the dark circles under her eyes and the heavy weight to her eyelids. "You look tired," he frowned. "You should head out. Get some rest."

She returned his frown. "Don't you want to go over everything?" Now that she had Felicity on her side, she was ready to reveal her plans. She didn't want to waste another minute.

He shook his head. "Tomorrow," he told her firmly as he reached for his jacket again. He noticed the way her shoulders slumped in almost a sigh of relief, but what really intrigued him was the fact that he could tell she hadn't realized she'd done it. "Come on. I'll give you a lift."

"No. It's okay. I drove myself. And my security is going to be suspicious if the car isn't back where it's supposed to be in the morning."

Oliver noticed the look of guilt that shadowed her eyes. "How have you been able to get around without your shadows, anyway? With all that's going on, I doubt they're giving you so much leeway."

She shook her head again. "Long story," she evaded by pretending to stifle a yawn. It caught her off guard when it turned into a real one. It had been a long day—hell, a long month—and she was wrecked. But weeks of very little sleep did that to a person. "I suppose I should try to get a few hours of sleep before tomorrow morning. Let Diggle and Roy know they should be there around five-thirty. That's when security switches shifts." She was saying this to Felicity as she turned and reached for her jacket. "While there aren't usually too many people at the office on a Saturday, there are still enough that we could draw too much attention. I'll do what I can from my end to make sure they look like they fit in."

The blonde nodded as she rolled up their plans and secured them with a couple of paperclips. "I'll let them know as soon as they come in from patrol." She managed a small smile toward Isla. It was certainly better than the sneer of disapproval she'd worn when she'd allowed the terroristic temptress into her domain.

"Are you sure you don't want me to drive you?" Olive asked, still waiting for some kind of explosion to come from his blonde partner. But, Felicity's ire seemed to be eased, which he knew he should be thankful for. "You look like you're dead on your feet."

Isla watched as Felicity stepped away to put the plans in a safe place for the morning. But, Isla knew it was more than that. There was still a lingering residue of the green-eyed monster that had radiated from the brilliant woman all evening. She hadn't said a word, but she'd known Felicity had still been sizing her up the entire time.

"I'll be fine. Besides, I believe there are still a few things that need to be dealt with here." Her words were soft enough for only him to here, but the gesture she made with her head and the pointed look in her eyes told him loud and clear her meaning.

He frowned as he wondered just exactly what she knew about what had happened between he and Felicity. "I don't..."

"Don't play dumb with me, Oliver," she interrupted him with a stern expression that left him little room for argument. "I know that something has happened between the two of you and I know that you're trying to run from it."

"I'm not..."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Just stop. I know what you're feeling. After everything you've been through, you're overwhelmed by these emotions and feelings for her. It's a lot to take in. But, you shouldn't fight them." And most importantly, he shouldn't use her as some kind of crutch to hold himself back.

Glancing over his shoulder at Felicity, he felt a small smile curl to his lips. No matter his mood, she always managed to make him smile. Even if it was just her sitting beside him, offering him some kind of comfort that he didn't realize he needed. "I have to," he told her sadly.

"Why?"

He sighed weightily as he closed his eyes to erase the images that suddenly flashed through his mind. The Count with the double-barreled syringe held to Felicity's throat. Slade threatening her with his sword. The sight of her cold, dead eyes as the life drained out of her from one of his enemies. "I'm afraid that something will happen to her. That because of who I am..."

He left the words hanging, but Isla didn't question it. She could understand. She was living his worst fear right at this very moment. But, that didn't mean that she would ever stop loving Rick any less or push him away when times got tough for her. He was the reason she was able to pull herself out of the shadows. Just like Felicity was doing for Oliver. He was just being so thick-headed that he couldn't see it.

"Walk me out, Oliver." It wasn't a question. It was an order that took him by surprise.

Confused by her tone, he frowned at her, but agreed when he saw the stern expression in her eyes. "Okay." He motioned to the stairs, allowing her to ascend ahead of him. There was clearly something she wanted to say to him, but she didn't want to do it with Felicity in earshot.

"How can you be so stupid, Oliver?" she finally asked when they were outside and heading toward her car.

"Sorry?" he asked, confused by the question.

"You are the strongest and bravest man I know. You are a survivor of the greatest kind, yet you are the biggest dimwit when it comes to the opposite sex that I've ever met."

He opened his mouth to argue, before realizing that she was right for the most part. His track record with woman wasn't exactly spotless and every attempt he made to do things right always ended up a disaster.

"Don't even bother trying to argue," she shot back, arms crossing over her chest as she stared him down. "You say that you don't want anything to happen to Felicity, like everything bad that happens in this world is somehow your fault. Well, let me tell you that it isn't and it would be stupid to push her away. I see the way the two of you look at each other. I know you love her."

"You've been talking to John, haven't you?"

She shook her head, clearly confused by that question. "No... well, yes, but not about you." Oliver's team was beginning to grow on her. It was clear why they were all so close. "But, I don't have to when I see the way you look at her. I'm lucky to be in love with a man who loves me like that, so I get to see it everyday."

Oliver inwardly winced. Here they were, talking about his so-called love life when her husband was still missing. He noted the hint of sadness that filled her tone and tears that flooded her eyes as hers fingers clenched and unclenched over her biceps. "I'm sorry. Maybe we shouldn't be talking about this."

She shook her head. "No. It's okay. Believe it or not, it helps me to think of him. It reminds me of what I'm fighting for." And what she could lose if they failed.

"So, then you can understand my way of thinking, then?" he asked. "You are living my worst fear. If anyone finds out that I am the Arrow, then they could go after Felicity to get to me. Hell, they've already done that." He raked a hand through his short hair, his nails scraping against his scalp in slight frustration.

"Of course not. Because no matter what has already happened, she is still here. Beside you. Helping you fight the good fight. That should count for something, shouldn't it?" Her arms finally dropped to her sides as he tone softened. "And who even says that you get to decide this for her? Shouldn't it be her choice?"

Finally, it seemed like her rant had ended and her argument exhausted. But, she'd made some good points and gave him a lot to think about. He just couldn't make any decisions yet. "I'll consider it." was the only response he could give.

Rolling her eyes, she shook her head at him. "Fine. But, I wouldn't wait too long. She's a pretty incredible person and soon some other guy is going to see that too." Offering him half of a smile, she lifted herself up on her tiptoes and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Reaching out, he touched her arm in a tender gesture, silently telling her that he would think about what she'd said to him. "Goodnight, Isla," he said as he opened her car door for her.

"'Night, Oliver," was her response before climbing into her car.

He waited until she'd pulled away and the taillights of her car were gone before he trudged back into the foundry. There was a new heaviness to his shoulders now as the weight of her words now rested on them. He was sure even a nice, hard workout would do very little to ease the tension. But he was going to attempt it.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, he began to head toward where he kept his clothes when he realized that Felicity was still there. She had gathered her belongings together as she'd prepared to head home, but paused when he'd come back down. "I thought you would have left," he said when he allowed his eyes to rest on her. She was dressed in the blue polo and khakis she had to wear as an employee of Tech Village and her hair was tied back in her familiar ponytail, but she had never looked more beautiful.

Tucking her jacket into the crook of her arm and with her purse dangling from her fingertips, she rocked slightly on the tips of her toes, almost looking a bit uncomfortable. "I was about to. Digg and Roy are headed back now. I already told them about the morning's plans. They're both on board for it."

He nodded as he listened to her words, sinking into the chair that sat in front of their tiny forensic lab. "Good." He groaned as he stretched the muscles in his neck, feeling a tightness that needed to be eased.

"Isla get off okay?" she asked, instantly blanching at the way that sounded before the blood flooded her entire face until she was sure she was as red as a tomato. "I mean..." Oh, God! Of course her stupid mouth would get her in trouble with a question like that! "Not... _get off_ , get off... I just meant..."

Oliver chuckled, though as he reached up to rub at his tense muscles. "I know what you meant. She's headed back to her hotel."

She nodded and breathed a sigh of relief, "Good." Then, she frowned as she noted the dark bags under his eyes. "You look pretty tired, too. When was the last time you got a good night's rest?"

He snorted a laugh as he gazed up at her, taking her in as Isla's words filtered through his mind. He wanted to let his fear subside. He wanted to explore the feelings this woman brought out in him. She was strong. He knew that. Some days she was the strongest of them all. Perhaps he _could_ take the chance.

"Right. Stupid question," she responded with a roll of her eyes.

He winced as he touched a tender spot between his neck and shoulder. Sleep had evaded him for the last week; hell, for the last seven years. There had been only two nights be could think of in recent memory that he'd slept the entire night. The first after he'd defeated Slade. But, taking down his former friend hadn't been the reason. The dreams he'd had that night were proof of that.

Felicity had featured in each and every one of them as he repeated those three little words to her over and over again.

The second had been more recent. The night after their kiss in the stairwell. He'd dreamed about every touch and taste of her. Every caress and sound she'd made as his lips ran over hers. But, while they'd been interrupted in real life, in his dream that kiss hadn't ended the way it had. It had continued, turning into something else.

He felt his body heat up at the mere memory of those dreams. Images of his mouth traveling the length of her body, his tongue dancing across the peaks of her breasts, his hands running along the silky smoothness of her soft flesh.

"Oh, here," she mumbled as she tossed her coat and purse onto the nearby table, her fingers pushing his out of the way before they began working at the knot in his muscles.

He groaned at her warm touch as it coupled with the images flashing through his mind. Closing his eyes, he allowed his mind to run away with him. Watching with his mind's eye how she'd arched into him as he kissed his way down the flat of her tummy, his tongue dipping into her navel, his teeth nipping lightly at the soft, tender flesh. "Felicity," he whispered a moan before he was able to stop himself.

Her fingers froze in their ministrations as she stared down at him with wide eyes. His own popped open, expecting to see anything else but the heat in her gaze.

"Thank you," he said, his voice husky as he said the words. He cleared his throat and shifted slightly in his seat.

"For what?" she asked, trying to be nonchalant about the whole thing. The pattern of her breathing had changed slightly, though, giving him an indication that perhaps her thoughts had strayed just like his had.

For the massage. For always being there for him. For always finding a way to make him smile. He could have said any one of those things. "For putting aside your differences with Isla and working together with her," was what he said instead. He inwardly cursed himself at this cowardly nature that took over him when it came to this woman.

What was up with that, anyway? He was the farthest thing from a coward. He was Starling City's hero. He'd stood up against mercenaries and assassins and the everyday run-of-the-mill crazies and yet, he was afraid of the woman standing three feet away form him? It just didn't make sense.

"Well, I can't say that we're going to be BFFs or venture to pick out curtains or anything, but I think we have a mutual understanding of one another." Besides, the sooner they got Isla out of their lives, the sooner they can go back to helping Oliver get Queen Consolidated back. She shrugged as she took a step back from him as if she suddenly realized just how close she stood to him. "I guess I should be getting home, though, if I want to get an early start on getting everything set up." But, she continued to stand there as if waiting for him to stop her.

And he wanted to. He wanted to reach out to her and pull her into his embrace. He wanted to feel her lips move under his, feel her body pressed against his once again.

But, even despite the words Isla had said to him, he stuck to his beliefs. He didn't want her to get hurt because of him.

And even more so, he didn't want to end up hurting her himself. But the more he pulled away, the more he could see the way he was already hurting her. Could he do both? Could he be both Oliver Queen and the Arrow and still love Felicity like she deserved to be loved? The more days that passed, the more that he thought he could.

He saw the way Isla talked about Rick. She had her own horrible past and, yet, she'd been able to find love. And embrace it. He had to admit, she led a good example.

He _could_ love Felicity. And he could cherish every moment with her. But, there was the possibility that he'd screwed things up already. He hoped that she would give him a chance.

"Felicity, wait," he said, reaching out for her just as she turned away from him to grab her things again. She paused as his fingers curled softly around hers, but said nothing. Silently, she turned back to him. "We still need to talk... about the other day." Why couldn't he just say the word? He'd kissed her. Both of them knew it. And while Digg and Roy—surprisingly—hadn't said anything about it, he figured they knew as well. Hell, Roy had probably gotten an eyeful.

She tried to hide the fact that she visibly flinched, but he saw and it made him frown. She shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, but hesitated when it came to looking him in the eye. "Oh," was all she managed to say, which confused Oliver all the more.

He studied her closely. She'd retreated into herself again. He hated it when she did that. "Is that all you have to say?"

Wrapping her arms around herself, she shrugged. "What else do you want me to say?"

"I don't know. Something... anything. We need to talk about what happened." The awkwardness was too thick for him to break through alone. They needed to clear the air between them.

The wall inside of her continued to build itself up to the point that he was unable to see the real her, anymore. She was just a shell of the woman he loved.

"Why do we have to talk about it, Oliver?" she asked, almost spitefully. Uncrossing her arms, she flicked at a piece of lint that had settled at the table he sat behind. It flew in an arc in the air, disappearing somewhere else in the room. "After all, we're both adults and we were just working together. That... kiss..." she almost whimpered at the memory of it, "between us was a spur of the moment decision that you made because if you hadn't, then the hotel's security would have caught us in a worse situation. We were trapped and we needed to find a way to escape. And thanks to your quick thinking we got out unscathed." She offered up a half-smile, but it was so fake that Oliver thought her face might actually crack. "There's nothing else to say about it and you certainly don't need to apologize for doing something that saved both our hides."

Apologize? Why did she think he was going to apologize? She was putting on a brave face, but because of the wall she'd suddenly erected, Oliver couldn't understand why. "Felicity..." he started, but he wasn't sure how to continue.

"Besides, we have more important things to worry about. We need to figure out a plan for how we're going to help Isla get her husband back. And then we can figure out how to get you back into QC's board's good graces."

Oliver slowly got to his feet so as not to frighten her. She looked so on edge that he feared she would run away from him if he moved too fast. Her eyes had widened in fear, but it wasn't fear of the mission that they ahead for them. She was so good at what she did that she could do it in her sleep—even if Oliver wasn't completely sure what she did. No. It was fear of something else. He took her hand against and rested their entwined fingers against the warm, hardness of his chest. He hoped she could feel his heart beating and the special way it only beat for her. "I don't want to talk about that. This conversation is about you and me," he said, pleased that she wasn't trying to pull away.

She shook her head, the overhead lights revealing the sparkling glint of tears in her eyes. "But, there is no you and me, Oliver." And they way she saw things, there probably never would be either.

A tendril of hair had fallen loose from her ponytail and into her eyes. He reached up and tenderly tucked it behind her ear. "Maybe there could be," he shrugged slightly, which seemed to take her by surprise. He took advantage of that fact and continued while he was given the chance. "You know, I've been thinking about what I said a year ago. And I realized that I could have been wrong."

She frowned as she thought about what he was talking about. Her eyes were glazing over and her breathing had become stilted. "A... A year ago?"

He nodded, slightly. "When I told you that I couldn't see myself ending up with someone I really care about because of the life I lead." She visibly cringed and he held tight to her hand, again expecting her to flee. But, the fact that she still hadn't tried to pull away was probably a good sign. "I _was_ wrong about that, Felicity. Because, I _can_ see myself with that person, now." it was barely a flicker of animage, but he _could_ see it. He hoped sh _e c_ ould help him get it into focus.

"Oh," she said again, her tone a bit despondent, but the expression in her eyes had turned hopeful.

" _You_ are that person, Felicity." He watched the emotions play on her features. Confusion. Shock. Relief. They all alternated in turn and she couldn't seem to decide on which she wanted to be. In fact, she was struck absolutely speechless. And he took advantage of that. "I know I've gone about this all wrong and I know my timing could probably be better, I don't want to be afraid anymore..."

"Afraid? Of what?" Her words were merely a soft whisper. It was as if she thought if she raised her voice any louder, she would completely ruin the moment.

Oliver felt tears burning the backs of his eyes and his lower lip quivered only slightest bit. "Afraid of losing you."

Those words took her breath away, but it was the look in his eyes that made her want to cry. This was an Oliver she had only briefly glimpsed before. He was wearing his heart on his sleeve, giving her a peek of the man he wanted to be. "Oliver..." his name was the lightest of whispers on her lips as emotion flooded through her. She cleared her throat and tried again. "...no matter what, you will never lose me."

He wasn't sure how it happened or what possessed him. All he remembered was tugging at the hand against his chest, forcing her closer to him. He was briefly aware that he had cupped her chin with his left hand, holding her close as his mouth captured hers.

She froze against him, which he took full advantage of. Finally releasing their hold on her hand, the fingers of his right hand wound their way around her hip, urging her even closer as his mouth attacked hers.

It took a moment or two before he felt her mentally shift into gear, her body melting into his as she gave into every sensation he was teasing her with. When it was clear that she was going to allow this to happen, he groaned. She'd braced her hands on his chest, almost as if she was considering pushing him away. But, instead, her fingernails curled into the fabric of his cotton t-shirt, scoring the muscles and scar tissue under her fingers; marking them with a sweet fire.

She felt so good in his arms, he thought to himself when his hands found their way into her hair. He'd removed the thin band trying it back with one swift move and buried his left hand into its silky softness without thinking. His body was acting of its own accord, moving without his consent, and he didn't want to stop it. He'd denied himself for too long. The kiss in the stairwell the other day was merely a tease. This was something else. This was more than he'd ever known to be possible.

But, of course it was. It was with Felicity. And she always found a way to make his life better.

"Felicity," he groaned as she wrapped her arms around his neck, shifting the angle of the kiss. He banded his right arm around her back, urging her closer until there was barely any distance between them. The soft curves of her breasts pressed against his chest, eliciting a growl from deep within his chest.

Their clothes were too much of a barrier between them. He wanted to touch every inch of her and he couldn't do that while she wore than damn polo shirt.

Nipping at her bottom lip with his teeth, the fingers of his right hand edged their way underneath the shirt. The feel of her bare skin made his fingers tingle and his excitement grow. This was really happening, he realized with a sense of awe.

She wasn't going to pull away from him. She wasn't going to send him packing like he'd feared she would deep down in the back of his mind. She was really in his arms, kissing him, letting him touch her like he'd dreamed of for so long.

"Love you," he thought he heard her whisper before her tongue darted out to tangle with his.

He felt himself pause momentarily, but not in fear. No, it wasn't that at all. He felt warmth flood through his veins at those words. It was a heat so intense that there couldn't possibly be a word for it. It was more than love. It was more than lust. It was just... more.

Smiling against her lips, he shifted them so one of her khaki-clad legs became nestled between his own jean-clad ones. The warmth of her body brushed against the evidence of his arousal, causing him to moan against her lips. She did the same, allowing her hands to sneak underneath the thin fabric of his shirt and tease the ridges of his abs.

Stars shot against the backs of his eyes at the touch. H was beginning to lose himself in her, in this kiss. And that was all he wanted to do; lose himself over to sensation. But, he was still lucid enough to remember that they were still in the foundry, surrounded by half-dead computer equipment, training mats and dummies, and a glass case filled with arrows. Not exactly the most romantic of locales.

Felicity had completely lost herself in the kiss, however. A flicker of manly pride surged through him at the realization. He could feel it in the way she kissed him and the way she moved against him. It was as if she couldn't get close enough to him. When he felt her knuckles brush against the buckle of his belt, he knew he had to put a stop to this.

The problem was that he really didn't want to. She felt so good in his arms and her kisses made his head swim. A woman had never made him feel this way before. But, of course, this was Felicity. She could make him feel so many things. Which is why she deserved so much more than a quickie on a cold metal table down in the dark , dank basement of his former club.

Slipping his hand from inside her shirt, he took hold of the hand near his buckle, yet still didn't ease away from her lips. She whimpered slightly in protest and tried to move her hand back.

Oliver chuckle softly as he held his hold of that hand and—as he reluctantly removed her other from inside his own shirt—took hold of the other as well. He pressed them against his chest, over the fabric of his shirt, letting them hover over his heart. He allowed her to feel the beat of his heart again as he eased back from the kiss, letting her witness just what she did to him.

"Felicity," he breathed her name softly as he tried to pull away, but she only continued to chase after him.

"No," she argued, weakly as his lips shifted from hers, dancing their way long her chin. "Want you."

He laughed again, his breath dancing across her flushed skin. If he'd known this was all it would take to make Felicity speechless, he would have tried kissing her a long time ago. "And I want you too," he admitted to her in a soft whisper, his lips dancing upon the outer shell of her ear. He smiled when she shivered against him. "But, while I've had fantasies about making love to you in the foundry, I think our first time together should be in a bed." He reached up and brushed a stray strand of hair behind her other ear. "What do you say?"

It was at that very moment when he felt her realize what they had just been doing and where. Pulling her head back, he saw that her eyes were wide in surprise as she glanced around at the room they were standing in.

His laughter echoed throughout the vacant basement as she let out a squeak of surprise and pulled away from him, finally coming to her senses.

"Oh my God, Oliver! I can't believe we just did that! What if Digg and Roy had walked in on us?" He continued to chuckle as she paced in front of him, unabashed at the thought. If they had, Roy and Diggle certainly would have gotten a show, that was for sure. "I can't believe you would let it get that far! I can't believe _I_ would let it get that far! I mean, I was just about to... and you were going to let me!" His shoulders shook even harder at the expression on her face. She looked so indignant, but the flush of her skin had nothing to do with anger. "I can't believe I almost... wait." She paused in her pacing to stare at him with clear interest. "Did you just say 'make love'?" She was pretty sure she'd heard him also say the words 'first time', which would imply it happening more than once, right?

Of all the things she could touch on, Oliver was waiting to see if she would land on that point. He was no longer laughing, thought he did continued to smile. He felt his gaze sear with heat as he looked at her. "I did," he grinned in a self-satisfied kind of way.

"And I believe I heard the word 'fantasy'."

His grin grew even wider. This was the Felicity he'd been waiting for. Now that her chock had subsided, she was allowing herself to focus on the important parts of what she'd said. "I believe the word was 'fantasies'. Plural," he teased with a wink.

"About me? Down here?" He merely nodded and he thought she might melt straight down to the floor. "Oh," was her final, yet simple response.

He took hold of her hand again and pulled her close once more, just not as close as he had before. "You deserve hearts and flowers, Felicity. I want to give them to you." His lips brushed against hers again, but without the heat. It was merely a touch of affection.

She pulled away slightly again as she continued to wrap her head around things. "Just so we're clear about all of this... and I'm not complaining by any means... just wanted to make that clear... why the sudden change? I mean, last week, you barely wanted anything to do with me and now... here we are."

He figured the subject would come up. And all he could do was tell her the truth. "I recently got some good advice from an old friend. She told me that I shouldn't push you away out of fear. And reminded me that you are here by choice." He reached up to try to repair the damage he'd done to her hair, though he had to admit she looked quite sexy with the tousled look.

Her smile was small as she reached up to cup his face with both hands. "You're still scared though, huh? Oliver, she was right. I am here because I want to be. Both for this city... and for you."

He nodded, "I know, but I don't think I won't ever be terrified that something will happen to you. What I do know though is that I can't keep away from you anymore. I want to be with you, Felicity. I want to give whatever it is between us a chance."

Her smile widened as she leaned in to brush his lips with her own. She knew what he was doing. She could see his feelings for her clearly in his eyes. She knew he loved her and while it would have been nice to hear him say those three little words again, this was a big step for Oliver and she couldn't really fault him for not being completely ready for that, yet.

Of course, she was just as scared as he was. Whatever just happened between them could change everything. But, for now, she would take what she could get.

Leaning up, she pressed her forehead against his and stared into his eyes. "Boy, did we ever go about this the wrong way," she chuckled.

He shrugged, with his own laughter bubbling from his lips. "I wouldn't say it was wrong. Just unique."

"Er... are we interrupting something?" Roy asked as the couple broke into another fit of laughter. He and Diggle stood at the bottom of the stairs, side-by-side with matching looks of confusion mixed with interest on their faces.

Oliver and Felicity glanced their way and smiled at them in unison. The two men didn't have to be told what had just happened between the pair, but Oliver responded anyway. "Just tying up a few loose ends," he told them, being as vague as possible.

Digg's knowing smirk was clear on his features. He brushed his thumb against his lips as if he was trying to erase his smile, but it didn't help. "It's about time," he merely said before he and Roy turned and walked away, giving them the privacy they desperately needed.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Anything For Love**

 **Chapter Seventeen**

"So, this is my target," Isla said, tapping away at the tablet in her hand. She gave the screen a swipe with two fingers and an image appeared on the large flat screen monitor sitting beside Felicity's new and improved setup. It was a picture of a man in his sixties wearing a high-quality gray suit. "Evgeni Khmelnov. He's the Russian Consul stationed here in Starling. They want me to take him out so their own man can take power... Give them a way to continue their elicit activities without troubles from either government, I'm sure." Her eyes bored into the image on the screen, her gaze icy cold.

She'd done her research on Khmelnov. He was a pretty standup guy who ran his office fairly. He'd been offered a bribe or two in the past, but he'd never taken a stray payment. As Russians go, he was practically a saint.

That was why he needed to be taken out. He was an imposition to the men that hired her.

But, he was also a husband and a father to two teenage boys. He was also an avid sportsman and enjoyed traveling with his family. He had a life outside of his governmental duties and these psychos were willing to take that all away just for a little extra money. It was pathetic that they would allow someone else to die for their own monetary gains.

"What kind of activities?" Digg asked, trying to take in all the facts. He just wanted to lay some good groundwork if they were going to have a good plan.

"Drugs... human trafficking... guns... whatever they can get themselves into probably," she shrugged. The details weren't really important to her at the moment. What was important to her was the life of the man whose fate was dangling on such a thin thread. She'd been asking herself the same question over and over, lately. Could she really go through with it?

Yes, she knew she'd done it before. She'd taken lives. But, she couldn't remember that part of her life except for the little tiny snippets of memories that would sneak up on her at the worst of times. They were merely little flickers of things. Eyes full of fear. Smears of blood on the ground. Horrific screams. That horrible buzz of electricity.

She tried to hide the fact that she shivered, but she had the feeling she'd been seen.

"So, who would want to take this guy out?" Roy asked, trying to narrow down their list of suspects. It was kind of difficult to do so since they knew so little about who was pulling Isla's strings.

"Just about anyone who wants to improve their market," Oliver responded with a sigh. He spared a glance in Isla's direction and it was then she knew that he'd seen her reaction to her own thoughts. "If they were given a chance to expand their business, it could be very bad."

Isla nodded, her grip tightening on the hand-held computer in her hands. "Men like Khmelnov are put in power to prevent that from happening. He's basically in charge of trade going in and out of Russia, but won't be bought. Which is quite surprising because a great deal of people in Russia will do just about anything for money." She was living proof of that.

"So, what did you want from Rasputin?" Felicity asked, swiveling around in her chair. She'd been admiring all of the equipment that Isla had brought in. She'd even felt a bit of drool pooling at the corner of her mouth. This new setup was twice as powerful as the one she'd had before. Even A.R.G.U.S. didn't have some of this tech.

Plus, it was so pretty!

"Information about the Trade Summit taking place on Wednesday." She tapped the tablet again and a series of images replaced the picture of Khmelnov. Each one was a different angle of the Starling City Convention Center. "Fifty of the most influential trade officials are going to be gathered at the Convention Center and security is going to be tight. Rasputin also gave me access to some credentials to get me through the door." She swiped again and an ID featuring her picture, but with falsified information, appeared.

"It looks like you have everything planned out," Diggle said, impressed by the amount of thought and preparation she'd done. This was preparedness that could be compared to the military... or an assassin.

"I did... until someone decided to poke their nosy little green hood into my business." She was teasing as she shot a look in Oliver's direction. One corner of her mouth was quirked up in a smirk to show him that she was thankful for his intervention.

He smiled and shrugged his broad shoulders. "I won't apologize for caring about you."

She felt her smile widen at that fact. It felt good to have someone care about her again. "Good. I wouldn't have accepted it anyway," she replied cheekily.

"So, how are we going to go about this?" Roy asked the question that was on all of their minds. "I mean, it's not like we can let Isla go in alone and we can't exactly go in all hooded up in broad daylight."

Oliver blew out a breath as his eyes scanned the group filling the foundry. The kid was right on both counts. And, unfortunately, Oliver didn't really know what to do. What he did know was that they were going to need some help. "We need to call Lance."

"Do you really think that's a good idea?" Felicity asked. "He's going to want to know how we know about all of this and wonder if we have an idea of who's going to execute the hit." She flickered her gaze toward Isla for a brief second before returning it to Oliver. Surprisingly, there was no malice to it. Only concern.

He nodded. "I know. But, what other choice do we have?"

"He's right," Digg chimed in. "Lance is going to need to know just so he can take the proper security measures... in case things don't go as planned." Not that they had a plan at the moment.

"Well, what's going to happen if things don't go according to plan?" Roy asked, looking at Isla in question. "They're obviously going to be watching pretty closely to see if you actually pull this off."

She nodded with a heavy sigh. "There will be plenty of eyes on me, I'm sure."

"Mine included," Felicity tried to reassure her. "I've already hacked into the security system, which—considering all of the high-profile attendees to the Summit—was quite easy. While all of you will be in place, I will have a bird's-eye view of everything that goes down." She pushed a few keys on the wireless keyboard in her lap and the live video feed appeared on one of the three screens sitting in front of her. "I'll also be running a program to see if I can find out what kind of eyes these guys are going to have on Isla."

"It looks like we have everything covered…" But, still... Even knowing that this group of people whose lives she'd upended with her problems were going to have her back... something deep down inside of her kept telling her that no matter how much they planned for every eventuality, it still wouldn't be enough. "…for now."

"Hey," Oliver approached her, a tender hand falling upon her shoulder. "We're good at what we do. We'll do everything we can to prevent this from happening."

"And what happens if you can't?"

"Then, we'll do everything we can to protect you. I made a promise to you and I will keep it, this time."

 _She'd been in bed all week. She'd slept most of the time. The only times she'd been awake were to eat what little bit she was able and to use the bathroom. And during that time, Oliver had remained by her side._

 _Those times she had been awake, she hadn't been very lucid. She was still ill and her body needed more time to recuperate. And since she was still so weak, the only thing she'd been able to eat was more broth—this one much more edible than the last, of course—and some dry toast._

 _Oliver leaned forward in the uncomfortable wooden chair and brushed a strand of hair away from her fevered forehead. It was thin and brittle because she'd been so malnourished for so long. She would have a long way to go before she could make her journey home._

 _She was peaceful in sleep, he noticed as he watched her. With the constant fear no longer in her eyes, she looked her age. Young and so full of possibilities in her life. Oliver wanted to make sure she would be able to fulfill all of the promises she'd made to herself._

 _First, he had to help her get better._

" _What time is it?" Her voice, heavy with sleep, permeated his thoughts._

 _Shifting uncomfortably in his seat again for being caught staring, Oliver checked the clock handing on the nearby wall. "Almost ten," he responded softly._

 _She frowned as she carefully sat up in bed. She wore and oversized t-shirt and sweatpants that hung from her thin form. She looked so small. So fragile. "Morning or night?"_

 _He chuckled at her question. He knew from experience how a fever could fracture a person's grip on time. He couldn't remember much from his first week on Lian Yu. Just the pain and the hunger. "Night. How are you feeling?"_

" _Kind of hungry," she seemed almost ashamed of admitting it, but it only made Oliver happy. Color was slowly filling her face, her features no longer sallow and pale._

" _That's good. It means you're getting better. I can go see if there's anything in the kitchen for you. Do you think you'll be able to handle something other than broth?"_

 _She rolled her eyes at the question. "Please, if I ever see another bowl of broth, I might puke... again." She shuddered at the memory of her first meal after being rescued. She'd eaten far too much, despite Oliver's protestations, and had ended up regretting it for the rest of the next two days._

 _He chuckled. "Okay. No broth. I'll see what I can dig up." He got up from the chair and began heading toward the door._

" _Oliver?" her soft voice called him back._

" _Yeah?" he asked, turning back to face her. The moonlight was filtering in from the window beside her bed and he knew she could see the worry lines and dark circles under his eyes. He hadn't slept much throughout the week._

" _Have you been here with me the entire time?" She seemed confused that she'd woken up to find him at her bedside._

 _He could understand that the week had probably whisked by her in a blur. Being so sick, she would have missed a lot. So, he nodded. "Yes. I have." He'd been making sure to keep a close eyes on her to make sure she could properly recuperate. Because, while both of them deserved to go home, he would make sure she would be the one reunited with her family first._

" _Why?"_

 _He flinched as if he feared that she'd been able to read his thoughts. Knowing that wasn't the case, though, he responded. "Because, I know what it's like to be lost and afraid. And you looked like you could use a friend." He turned again to head out of the room._

" _You look like you could use one too," was her reply._

 _The words stopped him in his tracks, but he merely glanced over his shoulder so she wouldn't be able to see the emotions emanating from his eyes. She was right. He did need a friend. And while Anatoly was one of the few people knew he could consider a friend, it just wasn't the same as if would be with Isla. He could just feel it._

" _What makes you say that?"_

 _He caught a glimpse of her shrugging her small shoulders as she picked nervously at the comforter on the bed. "Everyone needs friends."_

"Do you remember what you said to me five years ago?" he asked, the memory still flowing through the forefront of his mind. She shook her head. "You told me that everyone needs friends." He chuckled halfheartedly. "I didn't believe it at the time, but..." he paused as he glanced around at his team. These people were not only his friends, but his family as well. "You were right. When I started this crusade, I'd intended to do it all alone. Then I discovered that I couldn't. I needed help just like you do."

He watched the way her chin quivered as she was overcome with emotion. He wrapped her up as tightly in his embraced as he dared and hugged her. "We are going to help you get through this and we are going to help you get Rick back. Just trust us."

Her eyes were red as she pulled away from him and her hands hastily reached up to wipe the moisture form her cheeks. She wrapped her arms tightly around her middle and pulled in a deep, steadying breath. "Okay," she nodded, finally. "Okay. I trust you."

Oliver smiled, despite the fact that he knew that it was taking a lot for Isla to ignore her first instincts to go at it all alone. "Good... Felicity..."

"Right," she smiled at him, that sparkle from the night before still shining within her eyes. "Call Captain Lance." She picked up her phone and began dialing. Her thumb hovered above the green call button as she paused, glancing up toward Isla. "We _can_ do this," she told the other woman, hoping her words offered the slightest bit of comfort.

"I hope you're right."

Oliver knew if Isla was allowed to stew over her thoughts, she would worry. He had to distract her. Huffing out a sigh, he left the group momentarily and headed into the space he called a bedroom. He came back out a moment later. "Put these on," he told Isla, tossing some clothes at her.

Surprised, she caught them as she stared after him. "What?"

"You're going to over-think things if you don't do something, so until Lance is available, I want to see what you can do." He pulled off his t-shirt and threw it aside as he strode toward the sparring mats, his sweatpants handing low on his hips.

She now realized that she was holding a set of workout clothes. And not just any workout clothes. They were _her_ workout clothes. "Did you raid my closet?" She was too stunned to be angry and all she wanted to do was laugh. The slight smirk Oliver wore as he began to stretch was all the answer she was going to receive. "Oh, you're going to get it, Queen," she promised him, determination filling her insides up, temporarily replacing the worry and fear that had been plaguing her.

She quickly left to change, returning less than two minutes later. Her stride was more confident and a sly little smirk ghosted her lips.

"This ought to be good," Diggle muttered under his breath with a grin.

"Fifty bucks says she takes him down," Roy commented, his grin matching Digg's.

"Are you two really doing this right now?" Felicity scoffed with a roll of her eyes. She'd just hung up the phone and was trying not to appear interested in their dirty dealings, but the fact that she was now perched on the edge of her desk beside them told them everything they needed to know.

"Yup. You in or not?" Roy asked, laying his money down.

She thought about it for about five seconds before laying down some of her own money. "My money's on Oliver," she responded with a grin as she settled in to watch the entertainment that was about to ensue.


End file.
